


Vive La Revolution

by Masura



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Updated periodically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 49,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masura/pseuds/Masura
Summary: For all appearances, the French government is imposing a nearly draconian new tax on its citizens in the name of raising  funds for new environmental initiatives. Some people take less kindly to that than others. Throw in a few superheroes with opinions of their own, a handful of masterminds, and a single group with the stones to take on the world, and you get this fic.





	1. It’s a Gas!

President DeRais, the National Union of French Workers (NFW) has come to a consensus. We believe that, while environmental reforms are usually a noble goal fit to be pursued for the betterment of both France and the world at large, imposing the gasoline tax proposed by the Wunderstein group would create a financial burden of unacceptable magnitude for the French people. I believe I can speak for each and every member of the NFW when I say that we are certainly amicable to environmental reform. However, we cannot and will not condone the implementation of a two euro per gallon gasoline tax to fund reform initiatives, as it would impoverish a large portion of the people this government is bound to serve, people who depend on gasoline in one way or another in order to earn a living. Finally, it has not escaped our notice that, in exchange for the implementation of this gasoline tax, the Wunderstein group has offered to share some of its research on ‘miraculous stones’. While the NFW does not claim to know anything about the nature of these items or the level of importance of their research, it is clear to us that the Wunderstein group is, to put it bluntly, trying to bribe the upper levels of the French government with access to their research findings. This, in and of itself, is an affront to our country that is not to be abided. I sincerely hope, for the sake of the citizens of France and the integrity of our nation, that you agree.

            -M. Broussard, Chairman of the National Union of French Workers

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That makes eleven,” he muttered.

“Eleven what, sir?” she responded.

There was a pause before he answered, in which he lifted his eyes from the document on his finely polished desk and focused them on the window that lay about two yards from his current position.

            “Eleven groups of some import that have generously taken the time to meet, discuss the Wunderstien proposal, and tell me that implementing it would be, in the words of one writer, ‘political suicide’”.

            “Ah,” she responded. “A shame, that.”

            “Yes,” he breathed, “it is”. “the global social climate is frankly getting far too hot. The terrorist attacks a few years ago are incontrovertible evidence of that”. He turned around, swiveling his chair to face her. “The man who just wrote to me, one M. Broussard, made one very fine point. He correctly asserted that his organization doesn’t realize the importance of research on the miraculous stones. If they did, they might realize that these stones are responsible for the current super-hero circus going on in Paris right now, and that they could be used for national defense… What people like M. Broussard do not understand is that I’m doing this for the benefit of the people, my people!”

            She smiled. “I’m well aware. The Wunderstein group’s claim to fame is that they are researching ways to replicate the powers of the miraculous stones. That much information is accessible to anyone who cares to dig deep enough. That being said, I’m Lianna Raincomprix, and I make it a point to dig a bit deeper than that”.

            “Yes,” he chuckled. “It’s really thanks to you that we’re in this mess. Without you, we wouldn’t have known that the Wunderstien group actually managed to get their hands on documents from WWII miraculous research conducted in Poland, or that they’re nearing the completion of a prototype miraculous stone”.

            She placed a hand on his shoulder. “And what exactly would you do without me?” she teased.

            “Probably miss out on one of the greatest opportunities of a lifetime. Have I ever mentioned that you’re the best advisor I could ask for? Between you and the majority of ministers I’ve managed to rally, I think we’ll make it at the voting session.”

            “You could stand to mention it more,” she said. Although the smirk on her face as she lowered herself to lounge on his lap said that he certainly mentioned it enough for her satisfaction. “Hey, Gilles, we’re in this together. I know that and you know that. So, I’m telling you, on my honor as a French official, we’re going to get a miraculous stone by December.”

            “December? I suppose can live with that,” he said with an amused smile. “You really are the best, you know that?”

            She smiled. “I know,” were the words that come out of her mouth before she planted a kiss on his forehead. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she rose, “I’ve got some work to do. Good luck at the policy vote on Thursday!” she said as she walked out.

            “I have a majority of ministers and a number of parliament officials already on my side,” he shouted after her. “I don’t think I can lose!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I'll be updating this periodically. Feel free to leave comments, etc.


	2. Oil’s well that ends well

            It was the best of Wednesdays, it was the worst of Wednesdays. On the one hand, it was physics class, and Adrien loved physics, especially electricity and magnetism. On the other hand, the instructor, one Ms. Mendeleiev, had a truly charged disposition that gave her a magnetic(ly repulsive) personality. This inner monologue was flowing through Adrien’s head as he watched a seemingly put-out Ms. Mendeleiev berate Max for talking during class, though he had only done so to help Kim solve a problem. Yes, it was definitely shaping up to be an interesting day. Adrien had finished his classwork a few minutes prior and was currently trying his hand at a new hobby of his, drawing anime characters in his notebook. He had been a fan on the genre for about as long as he cared to remember and though it would be fun to try to make some of his own designs. So, a few drawing guidebooks later, he found himself doodling in his notebooks during the doldrums that inevitably pop up during a given class. Nino for one, was surprised to see one day that Adrien’s math notebook had gained more than a few drawings of Paris’s dynamic duo in addition to some very recognizable anime figures like that guy who’s just a hero for fun, or that other guy who’s actually a slime, or the really buff guy who could… stand or something, oh, and who could forget everyone’s favorite anime video game edgelord… Key Ringtone! Currently, Adrien was putting the finishing touches on another of his sketches. This one was a sketch of Standsuki, one of the antagonists from an anime where people are obsessed with clothes.

“And what do we have here Mr. Agreste?” Spoken as they were, those words became a portent of bad things in Adrien’s immediate future as he turned from his drawing to find a very peeved Ms. Mendeleiev. “The last time I checked, I teach STEM courses, not art.”

“My apologies,” Adrien began. “I finished the assigned problems a little while ago.”

            “Oh,” Ms. Mendeleiev commented, seemingly surprised. “Well in that case, I guess it’s fine,” she said as she walked over to her desk.

At this point two things became exceedingly clear to Adrien: 1) He clearly didn’t have _infinitely_ bad luck. 2) Ms. Mendeleiev, clearly hadn’t looked at his drawing in detail, beyond regarding the fact that it existed.

            “I thought she had you there, dude,” Nino broke in. “It must be your lucky day!”

            “Me, too,” replied a stunned Adrien. “But, if it’s my lucky day, then I’m not complaining!” Adrien said with a toothy grin.

That sentiment was short lived as the school alarm blared to life. “Attention all students and faculty, an akuma has been reported at the ave. de Champs Élysées. Please initiate the akuma lockdown procedure! I repeat, please initiate the akuma lockdown procedure!”

The akuma lockdown procedure was birthed during one of Mr. Damocles’s rare moments of having a great idea that could actually help the student body. In short, it was a lockdown that secured the students on campus, making them much less likely to become the victim of an akuma attack, unless, of course, an akuma targeted the school specifically, usually courtesy of Ms. Bourgeois. The new akuma lockdowns were received well by the majority of the student body at Collège Françoise Dupont. There were notable dissenters, such as one Alya Césaire, who mourned their loss of freedom but even they were capable of seeing things from the principal’s perspective. That didn’t stop the more adventurous students from using an ill-secured back door before the lockdown was in full swing though. So, it was through that door that Adrien ventured into the Parisian streets after muttering a quick excuse about having to use the bathroom. Unbeknownst to him, a reporter and another student would make use of that exit soon after he did.

            One transformation and a few staff vaults later, Chat Noir found himself staring down the latest akuma from atop the Arc de Triomphe.

            “Chat Noir!” the akuma bellowed out. “I am Oiler! The government is about to vote on a policy that could cost oil businesses millions, so I’m going to slick up their proceedings! Get out of my way!”

            “What, no demanding my miraculous? Hawkmoth must have slipped up on this one,” Chat Noir retorted. “Anyway, I don’t think I can oblige, what kind of hero would just let someone spray oil everywhere? that would just be crude.”

            “So be it!” Oiler shouted. “But I think you’ll find this battle is rigged in my favor. Oil cannon!”

            Chat engaged in battle with Oiler, nimbly dodging the jets of sleek, black oil shot from his oil can arms. A few minutes into their encounter, Ladybug arrived on the scene.

            “Chat’s already started fighting. Hopefully we can finish this quickly,” she muttered. “Lucky charm!” the masked heroine shouted.

            A huge umbrella appeared in her hands as the two combatants shifted their focus towards her.

            “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Oiler taunted.

            “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m a purrfect gentleman, not the type to drag anyone anywhere, thank you very much!” Chat countered in a bid for Oiler’s attention.

            “No matter! It’s been fun fighting you Chat Noir, but everyone slips up eventually. Do you think you can deal with my next trick?”

            Oiler jammed his arms into the street as the cobblestones underfoot began to rumble. Ladybug looked on as she saw the ground blacken where Oiler’s arms made contact and began to shoot oil geysers into the sky.

            “I told you this was a rigged fight Chat Noir! There’s no way you can stop my oil rain!”

            In terms of physical strength, Oiler was rather mediocre for an akuma, but with his vast array of oil based attacks, well, Chat Noir was having trouble keeping up his own slick persona.

“Chat, heads up!” Ladybug shouted as she threw her umbrella towards him.  

That was all he needed to quickly rush the akuma and use cataclysm on its funnel shaped necklace, just as the first drops of the oil geyser were beginning to rain. One akuma capture and “Miraculous Ladybug!” later, Paris reverted to its natural state, leaving two super heroes and one bewildered and distraught oil rig manager at the scene of the battle.

            Unlike many of the previous akuma victims however, the manager, upon realizing what had happened, jumped up and ran away.

            “Should we go after him?” Chat Noir asked.

            “I-” Ladybug’s response was cut off by a sudden beeping in her ears. “Out of time, I think we have to leave this one for now.”

            “Oh well,” Chat Noir said as he saw his own ring start to flicker. “I guess oil’s well that ends well. See you later Bugaboo!”

            Had he remained any longer, he surely would have been reprimanded for using _that_ nickname, but as it was, a cheerful Chat was already vaulting from building to building, and an exasperated Ladybug was making her exit as well.


	3. It’s Voting Time!

“Don’t be bemused, It’s just the news! Hi, I’m Nadja Chamack and today I’m bringing you a special interview with one of the president’s staff members. Let’s give a big TVi welcome to Ms. Lianna Raincomprix!”

Lianna walked into the interview room to the sound of computer-generated applause, a large smile on her face as she took a seat across from Nadja.

“Thanks for having me Najda!” Lianna began. “We weren’t initially planning to pursue any interviews or media coverage until after today’s vote on the Wunderstein proposal, but yesterday’s events made it clear that some public insight into how we’re handling the Wunderstein proposal was sorely needed.”

“Yes,” Nadja began without missing a beat “It’s shocking to think that someone became akumatized due to a proposed policy do you have any idea why that could have happened”.

Lianna had been expecting this question, it was her chance to be ‘transparent’.

“As the president’s office understands the situation, the akuma victim is a manager at an oil rig. As viewers might already know, the Wunderstein proposal is set to mark France’s move into a more eco-friendly era. It hopes to do so by applying a small tax to gasoline and use that funding to advance research towards making automotive transport purely electronic and otherwise sustaining the environment. While it’s regrettable that this move towards electronic transport would pose some inconveniences to people in the oil industry, I have complete faith in the resiliency of the Parisian people to adapt for the better”.

“I see,” Nadja continued. “I think I understand your statement.”

This is good, Lianna thought, things are going smoothly.

“Out of curiosity, I couldn’t help but notice that the name Wunderstein is German. How was that name chosen for the new proposal?”

And… there it was. In Lianna’s ideal world, she would have gotten away without having to answer that question publically. “Sigh, leave it to the media to ask the hard questions,” she thought.

“That’s a very astute observation!” Lianna complimented. “The name Wunderstein actually comes from an environmental research facility of the same name that we’ve partnered with in planning this environmental initiative!”

“Wow, I guess that just goes to show that a lot of planning went into this proposal,” Nadja amicably responded.

And... things were back on track. Lianna laughed to herself, the rest of this interview would be smooth sailing.

“Nathalie, turn it off”. At those words, life fizzled out of the screen that was moments before playing the interview. Gabriel laughed “Wunderstein indeed, I expect a brief report on this organization by tomorrow. I clearly should have known better than to think such a policy change was innocuous. If I had been aware that an organization whose name translates to miraculous stone had been involved, I would have become involved much earlier.”

“Right away sir,” she responded as she exited the lair. The giant monitor was a nice touch, she thought to herself. It screamed evil villain in a way that butterflies simply didn’t.

A few hours later and Nathalie Sancoeur could be counted among the top 15 most knowledgeable individuals about the Wunderstein organization and, more specifically, their research into an artificial miraculous stone. “This is interesting, very interesting,” she mused to herself. The report was mostly written. It seemed she would have time to listen to the evening news before Adrien arrived from his fencing lesson.

*click*

“… think about the new Wunderstein act that passed today?” Nadja asked.

The interviewee, who appeared to be a middle-aged man, was dressed in an all-brown suit and appeared quite distraught.

            “If I may speak frankly Najda, I do not see this ending well for the Parisian people. Organizations like mine and the NFW to name a few have been in correspondence with the president and have attempted to dissuade him from pushing for the Wunderstein… act. These taxes promise to be too heavy and too sudden with their introduction set for a month from now and their price set at a ridiculous two euros per gallon. What’s worse is that any technology for electronic transport is by no means perfected, if the president had been trying to push people towards a more ‘clean,’ transport that would be one thing. However, implementing something like the Wunderstein act now seems incredibly rash.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Statis for your time this evening. This has been Nadja Chamhack with your evening news. Stay tuned for more of the latest and greatest!”

            Nathalie turned the TV in the study off. It seems that she’d missed most of the program, but she had a feeling that she heard the most important details. For one, the Wunderstein act had passed, and that meant that her brief had become extremely pertinent. Maybe she would do some more research before Adrien came back from fencing…


	4. A Seed of Trust

            “Oof!” Falling on the sidewalk, though a practiced art, was taking its toll on the old man. His Hawaiian T-shirt seemed very out of place on the cold Parisian sidewalk, his bones felt out of place in those contorted angles that inevitably occurred when he fell down, and his goatee inevitably ended up worse for the wear. Yes, falling on the sidewalk certainly had its downsides, but he found that it was a fairly good test of a person’s empathy. And so, he fell.

            If Master Fu could be considered the proctor of this test of character, the unwitting test taker was one Kagami Tsrurugi.

            “Are you okay?” Kagami asked, reaching out a hand to the old man.

            “Oh, I’m fine. I guess my legs just aren’t what they used to be,” the greybeard reassured with a natural ease.

“I appreciate the help,” he continued. “Might I ask your name?”

            “Kagami,” was the quick reply. “And yours?”

            “My name is Mr. Chan,” he responded.

            “Oh! Are you Adrien Agreste’s Chinese tutor by chance?” Kagami, inquired. “I think he’s mentioned you to me before.”

            “Yes, Mr. Agreste is one of my best students! I didn’t know you two knew each other,” a practiced lie, but a harmless one.

            “He’s a friend of mine, and an able fencing partner,” Kagami clarified. The subtle smile on her face spoke volumes about their friendship. The old man was surprised Adrien hadn’t mentioned her more during their ‘Chinese lessons’.

            “It’s a small world, I suppose,” Mr. Chan sagely commented. “Thanks again for your help. I really should be going, but let me give you a gift to show my appreciation.”

            He handed Kagami a wooden box that he pulled out from his pocket, thanked her a third time, presented her with a business card for Chinese lessons, and left.

            “Huh. It’s not every day you get a gift from a stranger,” Kagami observed, thoughtfully staring at the box in her hands. “Though I don’t think I’ll be signing up for Chinese lessons anytime soon. Japanese usually works well enough for me. I have to wonder though, what’s in this box?”

            She undid the clasp that held the box’s top and bottom sections together and peered inside. Within the box was a golden chain with a large pendant attached. It was shaped like a… “Question mark?” Kagami thought to herself, as she let the chain slide through her fingers. In any case, it was definitely a very generous gift. If the old man was still around, she might have entertained the thought of returning it.

            Kagami closed the box. “I’ll probably look at this more later. Specifically, after dinner,” she said with a slight giggle. Dinner was always an enjoyable event at the Tsurugi household. If nothing else, the food was always top-notch.

            Those thoughts of an amazing dinner saw Kagami to her dining room table a few hours after her meeting with the old man. The dining room, with its ambient collection of flowers and other plants in vases, never failed to provide an aura of calmness. However, when Kagami sat down at the glass table in the room’s center, she noticed that there was an extra plate and set of silverware. The kitchen door opened

            “Your uncle will be joining us this evening,” Kagami’s mother explained as an answer to Kagami’s unasked question. “Seriously,” Kagami thought, she’s way too good at reading people.

            “I didn’t realize uncle Jinmei was in town,” Kagami responded, verbalizing the new idea.

            “Yes, he just arrived yesterday,” Mrs. Tsurugi clarified, wiping a line of sweat from her brow. “He should be here by the time the food is ready,” she finished with a graceful smile.

            With practiced ease, Tomoe Tsurugi, slid into her seat across the table from Kagami.

            “How was your day?” she asked with a focus that was in no way undermined by her blindness. No, if anything, having one less sensory input to contend with enabled Tomoe Tsurugi to intensely focus on the greater nature of things, and gracefully move within them. No greater example of this could be found than in her fencing. Despite her accident several years ago, Tomoe Tsurugi was still a name to be contended with in the fencing world. A given match with her would usually involve a period of waiting where the opponent would reveal their style and then an abrupt cut, Where Tomoe’s own tempo would slice through the opponent’s machinations if they were unprepared, leaving her on the offensive. It wasn’t a foolproof approach, but the techniques that Tomoe had learned from her first home of the Katti family enabled her to win many more matches than that idiot doctor, who said she would “never fence again,” predicted. She had made sure to send that doctor a recording of her matches from her first winning season after she resumed competing.

            “Pretty good,” Kagami replied, mulling over any notable occurrences. “Fencing practice was ‘par de course’,” as they say but I did get to help an old man on the way home,” she finished.

            “How do you mean?” Tomoe inquired.

            “Yes! How do you mean?” a voice rang out from the front entrance. “After a long day of work, I could certainly stand to hear an entertaining story,” the voice continued.

            “Oh, Uendo! I didn’t expect you home this early,” Mrs. Tsurugi stated with an expression of mild surprise.

            “Well, apparently, the higher-ups at work wanted to hold a top-level meeting to discuss their plan of attach for that new policy, the Wunderstien act”, the man finished.

            “You still haven’t explained how you got here so early, Dad,” Kagami interjected.

            “I was getting to that!” the man roared with laughter. “Don’t tell me that my two champion fencers are going to poke my story full of holes before I could even finish it! He said in a tone of mock exasperation. “After all, I think I still have the right of way,” he defended.

            “A fencing pun? really?” Kagami deadpanned, though her small chuckle wasn’t missed by her father.

            “To skip to the part where I got to go home early,” Uendo carried on. “It’s actually pretty simple. Some higher-up wanted to clear the time table for that urgent meeting and decided to give everyone the day off. Well, I say the day, but it was more like the last hour,” he corrected.

            “And now you’re here,” Tomoe observed, having processed the story. “It’s good to see you,” she greeted with a smile.

            “Good to see you too Tomoe!” The man chuckled as he fell into his chair, between the two women. “Do I understand correctly that my favorite brother-in-law will be joining us this evening?” he questioned.

            “You only have one brother in law, but yes, he’s coming,” Tomoe said with a confused expression.

            “And that’s why he’s my favorite,” Uendo responded with a self-satisfied grin. “Seriously though, Jinmei’s great,” he assured. “Before I get distracted,” he began as he turned towards his daughter. “Kagami, what’s this I hear about you helping an old man?” he inquired with a more relaxed smile.

            The next hour was occupied by the three Tsurugis talking and laughing about their quotidian adventures. Apparently, some grocers couldn’t process the idea that a blind lady could do her shopping as well as anyone else. This atmosphere was special for Kagami. The dinner table, be it at home, an apartment, or even a hotel on vacation, was one of the few places where she truly felt comfortable letting her guard down. Because, if you were at the table, you were family.

            Speaking of family… the doorbell rang.

            “I’ll get it!” Kagami exclaimed. It really had been too long since she’d last seen uncle Jinmei.

            After peering through the peep-hole in the front door, and recognizing her, now bearded, uncle, Kagami welcome him inside.

            “Uncle Jinmei!” she exclaimed as she enveloped the startled traveler in a hug. “It’s really been too long!”

            “Yes!” he laughed. “It’s good to see you too Kagami! You’ve certainly grow since the last time I saw you! And what’s this I hear about some French recruiters looking at you for the Olympics? Tsk tsk,” he jokingly rebuked. “I know a lot of people who would be disappointed if you competed under any other flag than our own,” he finished with an amused smile.

  
            “Don’t worry, when I end up at the Olympics, I’ll be on the right team,” Kagami assured. It had been a while since she received that letter from a French Olympic recruiter. Honestly, she was surprised that he even remembered. Her parents must have made a big deal out of it, she reasoned.

            “Good to hear!” Jinmei beamed. “Now do you happen to know where your parents are?” Jinmei asked rhetorically. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them too.”

            “Of course, right this way,” Kagami said as she guided her uncle to the main dining room.

            “Tomoe, I’m back!” Uncle Jinmei exclaimed. The main wore a grin as he greeted his sister that carried in his voice so well that Tomoe could have described it without missing a single detail from the joy in his voice alone. “Did you miss me?” he continued with the same joyful lilt.

            “It’s nice to see you too Jinmei,” Tomoe responded, a rare exuberant smile on her face. “How’s everything back home?” she queried.

             “Ah you wouldn’t believe it if I told you!” Jinmei began. “I was quite surprised myself. You see, I’m actually planning on getting married soon!” he announced.

            To say that Tomoe was surprised would be an understatement. To say that she sat still for a few moments processing the words that had been spoken to her before standing up with such speed that her sunglasses fell to the floor, would be stating it fairly accurately.

            “How is this the first I’m hearing of this?” she demanded. “Jinmei, congratulations! But seriously, you’re supposed to tell your sister these things!” she continued with an exasperated expression.

“Now that’s funny,” Jinmei began, before turning towards Uendo. “I could have sworn I told Uendo when he called me that time, a few months ago. I was sure he would have told you”.

            “Uendo Tatsumaki Tsurugi,” Tomoe began. “… Do you happen to recall having a conversation with my brother three months ago concerning his impending marriage?” she asked, with thinly concealed vexation.

            Kagami watched in awe. Altercations between her parents were rare, and few had effects that lasted beyond a day or so, but forgetting to tell your wife about her brother’s wedding… “This could be trouble,” she thought.

            “Ah, you mean that conversation,” Uendo lamely began. “I’m so sorry! I thought I told you but I guess I must have forgotten,” he explained with a sheepish grin.

            “Were you planning our travel arrangements then?” Tomoe pushed. “Had you planned out acceptable wedding gifts?” Uendo seemed to shrink into his chair with each question.

            “It gets better,” Jinmei continued. “He actually agreed to be my best man, on top of it all.”

            “Uendo…” Tomoe sighed. “Just promise me that you’ll tell me the next time someone is getting married. That’s not something you forget to tell someone. I only have one brother, you know.”

            “Right! Won’t happen again!” Uendo quickly affirmed. “But Jinmei, how could you do this to me? I thought we were friends?” Uendo lamented, with a clearly exaggerated tone.

            “Friends don’t let friends not tell my sister about my wedding,” Jinmei gently countered. “Besides, I’m sure this will make an interesting chapter in your autobiography.”

            “You have an autobiography?!” Kagami asked incredulously.

            “You kept up with that autobiography?” Tomoe marveled. “You really are something, Uendo.”

            “I’ll have you know that The Adventures of Uendo Tsurugi is going to be a best seller!”  Uendo defended. “I’ve been working on that since I was in college. It’s filled with some of the funniest, most amazing, and most poigniant stories of my life!” Uendo finished with a satisfied grin, the lights from the ceiling reflecting off of his teeth, as if they were shining medallions.

            “Is that so?” Tomoe queried. “I’ll definitely have to give it a read. There are a few things I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing you retell.”

            A knowing expression dawned on Uendo’s face, before morphing into a fond smile. “I’d be happy to show you sometime. You did make it into the book after all.”

            “I should hope so,” Tomoe laughed. “If I didn’t make it into your autobiography, well, that would be like trying to trim a bonsai with a pixelated image as a reference.”

            “A sage simile,” Jinmei observed. “Excepting you, the next largest topic in that book is a veritable sub-novel on Sumeragi Noodles, though I’ll admit it’s a good restaurant.”

            “It’s more than a good restaurant!” Uendo interjected “That place has seen me through thick and through thin! Some of the staff there was like family.”

            “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m a little bit uncomfortable with the implication that noodles outranked me in your autobiography.” Three pairs of eyes turned to Kagami.

            “It’s not like that Kagami,” Jinmei offered. “we were talking about the first volume of The Adventures of Uendo Tsurugi. You and your mother actually have an entire volume dedicated to each of you.”

            “Jinmei how could you?” Uendo lamented. “I was going to give those volumes to them to commemorate our 25th anniversary. Can nothing be told to a friend in confidence?” he sulked.

            “And leave your teenage daughter feeling as if she’s outranked by noodles until them?” Jinmei countered. “Impossible. Tell you what though, next time you’re in town, we’ll go to Sumeragi’s, my treat.”

            “That’s not fair Jinmei!” Uendo said in an exasperated tone. “I can’t stay mad at you if you offer me Sumeragi’s in good faith!” His face quickly broke into a grin. “I really can’t say no to an offer like that.”

            “So, all’s well?” Jinmei asked, with a grin.

            “All’s well!” Uendo confirmed.

            The night continued with more banter, laughter, and some retelling of The Adventures of Uendo Tsurugi by the author himself. Though his wife was not hesitant to contribute her own perspective on certain events. Unfortunately, in order to learn the details of that dinnertime conversation at the Tsurugi household, you’ll have to get your hands on a copy of The Adventures of Uendo Tsurugi. It’s hard to say when the author will be releasing it though.


	5. Magic Trixx

            “I think, therefore I am. That’s from Déscartes,” a voice rang out from behind Kagami seemingly an instant after she secured the clasp of her new necklace in her room.

            She whirled around to deliver a kick to the ribcage of whatever stranger dared to invade her room. While quoting French philosophers, no less! However, her foot only met with air. Her eyes, however, briefly met with a small fox-like creature, giggling with a paw over its mouth, suspended in midair about a foot above where her right foot was currently traveling.

            “I am, therefore I’m gonna have fun. Now that’s a Trixx original!” the voice declared with a hearty laugh, as Kagami lost her balance due to the momentum of her kick.

            Turning around slower than before, Kagami stared at the creature from her new position on the floor. At first glance, it resembled a small kitsune, not that she believed in those things of course. Whatever it was, it had some explaining to do, she decided.

            “Who are you?” Kagami asked the small being. It was a simple enough question, and open-ended to boot, perfect for gauging exactly what kind of being she was dealing with.

            “I’m Trixx!” the floating being declared, with an enthusiasm that radiated from his foxlike ears all the way down to the tip of his orange and white tail. “Some call me an incorrigible prankster, while others recognize me as the true embodiment of illusion!” Trixx continued in a tone of intrigue. “But for you, Trixx will do just fine,” the creature resolved.

            “The true embodiment of illusion?” Kagami questioned. “Isn’t that a little bit over the top?” she asked in a disbelieving tone.

            “While over the top is definitely my thing,” Trixx began. “I assure you that my previous statement was purely factual. I’m what people in-the-know would call a kwami, the physical embodiment of a powerful concept. Specifically, I embody illusion, meaning I can do some really cool stuff!” Trixx declared with a proud expression as he multiplied himself into two copies, and then three, and then four, before finally reverting to one.

            “I see,” Kagami mused. “And what does the true embodiment of illusion want with me?” Kagami asked, a little bewildered.

            “Glad you asked!” Trixx started. “You see, we kwamis also have the ability to grant people the ability to tap into our powers via a miraculous stone. Mine is the necklace you’re currently wearing. In fact, you’ve definitely seen this process before. Ladybug and Chat Noir are a living proof of concept,” Trixx explained.

            “So, you’re going to turn me into a superhero?” Kagami questioned, barely less perplexed than she had been at the start of Trixx’s explanation.

            “More or less,” Trixx assented. “Though it’s slightly more complicated than that,” he continued as he started to sway back and forth in midair. “The current guardian of the miraculous, the proper keeper of the miraculous stones, actually has a special request for you. You can think of it as a special mission.”

            “Go on,” Kagami implored, not wanting to be left in suspense.

            “While it’s Ladybug and Chat Noir’s job to fight Hawkmoth here in Paris, we’ve noticed some recent developments in Germany that concerned the current guardian. Specifically, we have reason to believe that an organization called the Wunderstein group is trying to make their own miraculous stones,” Trixx explained, with a sense of gravity that contrasted the levity that was present in his earlier remarks.

            “This is a bad thing, I take it?” Kagami asked.

            “Very,” Trixx affirmed. “To give you an example, one of the most dangerous miraculous currently in existence, on the basis of power, is tied to the concept of destruction. If the guardian were to ever mistakenly give that miraculous into the wrong hands… Let’s just say things would be bad,” Trixx offered.

            “How bad?” Kagami probed, this was getting interesting fast.

            “Well, to give you an example, Plagg, the kwami of destruction, had a few incidents before he learned about impulse control. Have you ever heard of Atlantis?” Trixx asked.

            “You’re not saying…” Kagami trailed off, her mouth refusing to vocalize the implication of the smaller being’s words.

            “It was a really nice place before Plagg sunk it in his more reckless years,” Trixx confirmed.

            “So, if someone could bind a concept of their choosing to a miraculous stone…” Kagami started.

            “The results are so vast, they would be virtually unpredictable,” Trixx finished the statement. “I mean, there are some limitations. They couldn’t bind a concept that’s already in use to a new stone, or try to bind two concepts to a single stone for example”.

            “What’s wrong with having two concepts in one stone?” Kagami queried.

            “While it's possible for someone to wear and activate two miraculous stones at the same time, binding two concepts to a single stone would only work if those concepts were truly inseparable,” Trixx explained. “Take joy and victory for example. There are tons of instances where the two concepts coincide, but even a single instance of one existing without the other would be enough to prevent them from being bound together in a miraculous stone.”

            “The concept of victory?” Kagami questioned. “That sounds pretty over-powered.”

            “And also incredibly difficult to use,” Trixx added. “Some miraculous or combinations of miraculous have counterbalancing effects if they interfere with the balance of the universe too much. For victory, that counterbalance is defeat. For example, if someone used the miraculous of victory to win a duel to the death, they would suffer a defeat of the same magnitude in the near future”.

            “That’s a bit scary…” Kagami admitted.

            Trixx nodded. “That’s the duty of the miraculous guardian, in a nutshell, to prevent the miraculous from being used for scary things. Keeping that in mind, the current master wants the two of us to go to Germany, retrieve Wunderstien’s essential research documents, and secure any miraculous stones, if they’ve got that far in their research,” Trixx paused. “Kagami Tsurugi, can I count on you to help me ensure that scary things don’t happen to the world?” Trixx asked, with an air of nobility that overwhelmed his otherwise jovial nature.

            “When you put it like that, how can I refuse?” Kagami agreed with a soft smile. “Where do we start?”

            Trixx broke into a grin. “Let’s get you set up with some Chinese lessons.”


	6. Of Men, and of Moths

It was a cool Friday morning. The Parisian skies were graced with the sun’s idyllic presence, interspersed with clouds that lazed about, as if they were basking in the sun themselves. On a day like this, with the world resplendent in its beauty, even the most villainous person could be reminded of the things they cherish in life.

“Nooroo, have you ever heard of the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” Gabriel asked, thumbing the moth miraculous pinned to his lapel.

            “The tale where a respected doctor concocts potions in order to indulge himself a selfish alternate personality? I’ve heard of it,” Nooroo confirmed from his perch on Gabriel’s desk.

            “I’ve been thinking,” Gabriel began. “I might just try to flip the script.”

            “How do you mean, sir?” the purple kwami inquired.

            “It’s actually fairly straightforward in concept. You see, I plan to take advantage of the opportunity laid before me by the new Wunderstein act. You could reasonably imagine that a tax of that magnitude will induce many negative emotions, and therefore many potential akumas,” Gabriel explained.

            “I’m with you so far,” Nooroo commented. “But what does that have to do with Jekyll and Hyde,” The kwami asked while tilting his head to the side.

            “Patience, Nooroo. I was getting there,” Gabriel reprimanded. “The city of Paris is already familiar with Hawkmoth and his reputation as an evil supervillain. However, I’ve been thinking of involving Gabriel Agreste in the public sphere as a force of good by using some of the proceeds from Gabriel Designs in order to partner with local petroleum companies and offset some of the burden of the new tax for my fellow Parisians. By doing so, I would create a sort of emotional buffer by allowing the people to have a reliable public figure in their corner. Any emotions that burst out of the buffer would likely make more potent akumas than usual. At least, that’s my working theory,” Gabriel explained with a calculating smile. “This is a singular opportunity to both curry public favor and inundate Ladybug and Chat Noir with akumas!” Gabriel exclaimed as his smile erupted into an eager grin.

            “So, you would be acting as both a positive and negative force in different contexts…” Nooroo mused. “Interesting, if not very ethical,” he commented.

            “Of course, it hasn’t escaped my notice that the Wunderstein group is researching the creation of miraculous stones. Nathalie’s report on that topic was quite illuminating,” Gabriel transitioned. “That group has presented us with a unique opportunity, in the form of their research, to circumvent the need to use the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses altogether.”

            “You mean we could stop with the akuma attacks?” Nooroo asked hopefully, jumping from his desk perch to a fluttering position in midair.

            “Perhaps,” Gabriel responded with a chuckle as he regarded his kwami. It wasn’t like he terrorized Paris for the fun of it after all. “However, that’s a conversation we’ll have if and when we secure a copy of the Wunderstein group’s research documents”.

            “I assume you’ll be hiring someone to ‘collect’ them?” Nooroo questioned, still not entirely comfortable with Gabriel’s easy willingness to treat the wishes of others as mere obstacles to his endgame.

            “Yes, his flight should be leaving around now actually,” Gabriel confirmed, the edges of his lips curling into a smile. He suddenly adopted a puzzled expression, which then morphed into an eager one. “Nooroo, I sense a strong emotion,” Gabriel declared. “It appears it’s time for the good Dr. Jekyll to start his work,” he said while walking towards his lair.

            “I’m not so sure Hawkmmoth should be Jekyll in this metaphor, master,” Nooroo critiqued before following Gabriel.

            A few minutes later, the two found themselves in a familiar sea of butterflies, the scene as elegant as it was surreal. A voice rang out. “Dark wings, rise!” it commanded. A metal covering spiraled outwards, revealing a diamond-shaped hole in a window that bore a nearly abstract butterfly design. A vision appeared to the silver-helmed man in the room.

            A boy. No, a regular beefcake. He was engaged with… ah, Chloé Bourgeois. “The veritable mother of akumas herself,” Hawkmoth mused. “And it seems she’s about to goad my firstborn child.” Hawkmoth remembered the mountain of muscle standing before Chloé. As if he could forget his first akuma, one Ivan Bruel aka Stoneheart. Apparently, the boy’s personality had changed for the better since his last encounter with Hawkmoth, self-confidence and those sorts of things. Hawkmoth smirked, with such changes came resilience and a growth of character. These were good for both personal growth and, surprisingly enough, making stronger akumas. The main concept behind that discovery was actually the one Gabriel was trying to employ with his Jekyll & Hyde strategy: if you gave someone an emotional buffer, you would raise the minimum quality of the emotions necessary to make their emotions overflow. And high-quality emotions made for high-quality akumas.

            Apparently, Chloé was in the middle of shaming Mylène for talking negatively about the new tax measures. Chloé had, quite characteristically, argued that if her daddy wasn’t doing anything about it, "then they must not be that bad". The other girl, coming from a more modest, though by no means impoverished, financial background was inclined to disagree. Thus, the argument. And now, Collège Françoise Dupont’s resident strong man looked like he was ready to escalate things. And who was Hawkmoth to deny him?


	7. Ready to Rock

            “Chloe,” Marinette thought. “You do this to yourself. Granted, you’ve gotten a lot better about blatantly insulting people ever since you became Queen Bee, but seriously, your attitude must be making Hawkmoth seriously consider setting up a base at this school”. These were Marinette’s sentiments as she watched Chloe demonstrate exactly how out of touch she was with most people. If that wasn’t enough, Ivan had just gotten involved, and neither party seemed like they were going to back down anytime soon.

            “I’ll make it simple,” Ivan said as he walked over to Chloé, a buried menace in his steps. “Apologize. You’re entitled to your own opinion but shaming someone else over theirs like this is pretty low.”

            “I’ll make it even simpler,” Chloé shot back. “My daddy’s the mayor and anyone who disagrees with him deserves to be put in their place!” she finished with an arrogant scoff seemingly reserved for especially harsh taunting sessions.

            “He hasn’t even made a public comment, on the bill that was passed _yesterday_. How can you be so sure what his position is?” Ivan coolly retorted, crossing his arms in a show of dissatisfaction.

            “Because! Because…” Chloé faltered. “It doesn’t matter how I know! I’m sorry that you’re dating a monster who doesn’t care about raising money for the environment!” Chloé yelled.

            And… there it was. Marinette thought. Cue the trademark remark that took things waaaaay too far, a Chloé specialty. *Sigh* “it looks like someone is going to have to get her to stand down before Ivan punches her”, Marinette thought to herself as she slowly stood up from her seat. A frazzled Ms. Bustier had long since lost control of the class, so she supposed it fell to her to deescalate the situation.

            “Excuse me?!” Mylène interjected with a glare that Marinette had never seen on her face. “Oh right, I forgot you’ve had experience being a literal monster before,” Chloé taunted, digging in her heels. Part of her realized that she might have taken this too far, but another part of her reminded her that she wasn’t about to lose to some nobodies, so she pushed. “Though if it’s any consolation, I might have exaggerated. You’re not a monster, you just happen to be wrong about everything that you say…” Did she need to push more?

            “I’ll give you five seconds to take that back,” Ivan said, anger flaring in his voice.

            “Okay time to get involved,” Marinette thought. “Chloé that’s-”

            A butterfly flew into the room. Its obsidian wings fluttering near the window. It waited.

            “Oh, and also you’re fat,” Chloé finished. That insult never failed to leave its mark on a girl at her school. True, it was cliché, but some things are cliché for a reason, Chloé supposed.

            The akuma flitted down from the window. A boy had been nice enough to provide a wound-up fist for it to land on. So, it obliged. Dark power poured through the akuma. It couldn’t find an object on its new wielder that seemed to embody his desires. Fortunately, his emotions were strong enough for the akuma to make its own, a platinum gauntlet that would fit nicely over the fist that the akuma was seeping into. There were screams. The boy launched his hand at something. He made contact. The akuma was unaffected, it had already transcended its physical form.

            Ivan had enough. He didn’t punch people really; his parents had warned him against using his strength against weaker people. But Chloé seriously deserved it. So, he drew his fist, looked her straight in the eyes, and then started to feel really weird. Specifically, his hand felt really weird, and then his arm, and then, as his fist was flying towards one Chloé Bourgeois, he heard a voice that he hadn’t heard in a long time.

            “Stoneheart,” it began. “I am Hawkmoth. In exchange for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculouses, I’ll let you rock Chloé’s world.”

            “Let’s roll,” Ivan said with a sinister grin.

            “Not good!” Marinette thought as she dragged a limp Chloé from the room with a strength that would have raised any eyebrows that the akuma hadn’t raised itself. “Not good! Not good! Not good!” she mentally screamed as she watched the roof of her classroom fly off during her flight to drag Chloé to the nearest bathroom. “Okay, that’s just plain bad!” Marinette exclaimed, gazing upon the stone golem that had replaced Ivan, a shining gauntlet reflecting the sun’s rays off of his right hand.

            Ivan felt great. With the power to cause earthquakes in his right hand and the strength to crush Chloé, he felt incredibly liberated. He looked down. Resting by his foot with a resigned expression on her face was Mylène. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled to see you as an akuma, but I’m definitely not going to miss Chloé getting the beatdown of the century.” The rocks that formed Ivan’s mouth worked themselves into a smile as he gently raised Mylène to an enthroned perch he created on his shoulder complete with gravel seatbelts. This was going to be a good day.

            “Tikki, spots on!” Stoneheart heard a cry. He swiveled his head and sure enough, his first obstacle presented itself on the school’s opposing roof, Ladybug.

            Stoneheart was smart enough to realize that she was not the same heroine he had fought months ago, just as he was not the same Stoneheart. She would be crushed all the same.

            Stoneheart vaulted himself into the air and came down upon Ladybug’s platform. His size had nearly doubled since his last appearance as an akuma, and he was determined to make full use of his newfound strength.

            Ladybug gauged Stoneheart’s rate of descent as she leapt backwards in retreat. She watched in horror as the roof she had been standing on caved in and Stoneheart crushed through the, thankfully-evacuated, building below, opening fissures in the school’s foundation.

            “And here I thought I was the one with the power of destruction,” Chat’s voice commented from her left. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say the akuma is in that shiny glove of his,” he observed.

            “I’d say that’s a pretty safe bet,” Ladybug replied. If her heart rate was any indicator, her time spent fighting akumas had not dulled the raw sense of urgency she felt when confronting one. “Careful you don’t squished kitty,” she advised.

            “What an ap _paw_ ling idea!” Chat exclaimed. “I’ll be sure not to let him _cat_ ch me off guard,” he reassured. “Shall we?” Chat invited.

            “Ladybug and Chat Noir!” Stoneheart thundered. “Give me your miraculouses so that I can focus on burying Chloé Bourgeois in a rockslide!”

            “As tempting as that sounds,” Chat pretended to muse. “We really can’t let you do that, even if she’s hit rock bottom this time.”

            “Chaaaaaaat,” Ladybug groaned.

            “Then I guess I’ll just have to introduce you to some of my new friends. Meet the rolling stones!” Stoneheart yelled as he threw volleys of rocks at the two heroes, who began to leap from rock to rock, closing the gap between them.

            Unfortunately for them, Stoneheart snapped his fingers mid-barrage, causing the impromptu rockslide to disintegrate into sand like particles, leaving the heroes in free fall. He took the time to deliver a moving clothesline to the free-falling heroes with his left arm, sending them spiraling into one of the school’s walls, which broke from the impact. This just so happened to be the wall to the girls’ bathroom where a somewhat groggy Chloé was collecting herself.

         Mylène had felt bad for Ladybug and Chat Noir, but Chloé had called her fat… that hurt a lot more than she thought it would. So she was relatively content to watch the battle from her current perch on Ivan’s shoulder.

            Stoneheart was elated. It seemed that he would get to take out Chloé, Ladybug, and Chat Noir in one fell swoop. He plunged his gauntlet into the ground and watched as the cracks raced towards his targets.

            By the time, the fissure arrived, Ladybug and Chat Noir had already regrouped in front of the stone colossus. Chloé however…

            “We have to beat him before she hits the bottom of that fissure,” Ladybug asserted. “I don’t feel like testing whether the miraculous cure works on dead people.”

            “Right,” Chat Noir affirmed. “Let’s do this!”

            “Cataclysm! /Lucky charm!” the heroes shouted in unison, as a black aura enveloped Chat’s right hand and Ladybug caught a spotted hand mirror.

            “Follow my lead,” Ladybug commanded as she raced toward the akuma, Chat running behind her.

            Stoneheart raised his fist. All he had to do was bring it down.

            “Now!” Ladybug yelled. She reflected a strong beam of light that radiated from Stoneheart’s gauntlet, temporarily blinding him. It was all the time Chat needed to close in on the gauntlet and tear it apart with his cataclysm, creating a volley of black and white sparks.

            “No more evil-doing for you!” Ladybug declared as she captured the retreating akuma in her yo-yo. “Bye-bye butterfly,” she said after purifying it.    

            As Stoneheart morphed back into Ivan’s much smaller form, he heard the telltale “Miraculous Ladybug!” that reset the events of an akuma encounter. Being an akuma was great for anger management, but it didn’t leave him with a good feeling afterwards.

            “Hey…” he said guiltily to Mylène.

            “I’ll give you a free pass on this one,” she gently smiled. “If it wasn’t you then it would have been me. But don’t make this a regular thing.”

            “Got it,” Ivan replied with a sheepish grin.

            “Ladybug, do you see Chloé?” Chat inquired frantically.

            “Let me check,” she hastily responded as she dashed to the newly-restored girls’ bathroom. The school’s resident entitled girl was inside. Unconscious, but unharmed.

“I think we can salvage today,” Ladybug said with a small smile. “Time to wake up, Chloé.”


	8. One Bird, One Stone

            Winston Corbyn. It was the name that appeared on the fake passport that the man used for this job. He looked out of the window, beyond the faces of the fellow travelers in his row. The aircraft he was on seemed to be gliding over a cloud sea, rife with whirlpools of open air. It was a pleasant view. Back to the passport. The name was good enough, they always were, but he much preferred his codename, Mars. When he heard about the nature of the consignment he was hired to retrieve, he felt it fitting to dub himself with the title of a great war bringer. Perhaps he exaggerated, there would likely be no war that erupted from his labors, but those research documents would definitely make someone’s life very uncomfortable.

            “Would you like a drink?” a flight attendant’s voice broke his train of thought.

            “Hm? Yes, I’d appreciate some orange juice if you don’t mind,” came his reply.

            Moments later, she set down the beverage on his tray and posed the same question to the passenger on his right.

            Back to Corbyn. As of two days ago, Winston Corbyn was a forty-eight-year-old professor of Chinese archeology based in Kent, with a resume to fit. Before then, there was no such person as Winston Corbyn. He’d originally been confused when his latest client recommended a background in Chinese archeology of all things, but when he applied for a research position at the Wunderstein group, it seemed to be the very thing that implored them to fly him over immediately for an interview, and perhaps start as soon as Monday. His boss had instructed him to apply to the research department, learn about Wunderstein’s research about something called a ‘miraculous stone’, and retrieve any essential documents they had concerning the formation of the aforementioned stone. That was it. By all accounts, it was a fairly standard task for the information courier, and his boss was good for the money if the down payment was any indication. Mars smirked, this job would be easy. He would likely have the information he needed in two weeks, tops. After that, he would load a pre-prepared data-wiping virus onto the Wunderstein servers and make a quiet exit, presenting a flash drive with a copy of the info to his boss, codename Hades. Yes, he realized that a client with a codename of Hades at least a little on the sketchier side, but that down payment offer was very attractive. Corbyn visualized the 20,000 euros flooding into his bank account. It was clear that Hades knew how to use money to grease the gears that made the world turn. The man arrested his train of thought.

            “Time to refresh my memory of these documents,” he internally commanded himself. Money was nice, but it could wait. Right now, he needed to study the purported archeological findings of one Winston Corbyn. This mainly involved looking at a screenshot of two pages of a book that his boss had sent him after the job was confirmed. One of the pages contained a picture of a woman dressed in a red outfit with black spots accompanied by some glyphs. The second page contained a picture of a pair of earrings and a yoyo that bore the same pattern, each with their own coded descriptions.

            Thanks to his boss, Mars had acquired a solid understanding of the significance of those pages. They contained information on the miraculous stone that fueled one of Paris’s superheroes, Ladybug. He had been instructed to tell the Wunderstein group that his own research team was currently deciphering the rest of the book and that he was interested in a collaboration. “That bait shouldn’t have worked so well,” he thought to himself. “I guess some greed can blind even advanced researchers,” he reasoned.

            In truth, there actually wasn’t too much to study on those two pages alone, but Mars made it a habit to know his material backwards and forwards. That was how he successfully completed so many jobs after all. Often, like in this case, he only needed a relatively small piece of bait to lure someone into giving him access to their information. By that point, he had them hook, line, and sinker.

            He sipped his drink. “Just another day in the life of an information courier,” he mused, as he looked over his tablet. Flying was, by far, the most relaxing part of the job, though he often found the fieldwork much more fun.


	9. Chapter 9: Tomorrow

            A metal tip bounced off of a vinyl surface. Fu flipped a switch. The vintage phonograph resumed a dance easily as old as the table it sat on. The first notes of _Fly me to the Moon_ began to play.

            “Frank Sinatra?” a green kwami questioned. “I haven’t heard one of those records in a while.”

            “Many of the people I’ve invited to my previous residences over the years have learned that this phonograph has two purposes,” Fu said by way of a reply, as he laid an appreciative hand on the phonograph’s brass mouthpiece. “They far too quickly jump to the second purpose, I’m afraid, and end up overlooking the first,” he chuckled.

            “And the first would be what? A hearkening back to better times?” the kwami inquired. It was a topic that they didn’t have much of a reason to talk about recently, not healthy for a human. No, the kwami asserted, humans needed their pasts in a way, and that made this a conversation worth having.

            “Better times?” Fu repeated. “Some things were better, I suppose,” he affirmed with a small chuckle. “The novelty around every corner, the music, the inventions… for a time, I used to have dreams in black and white. It was the dramatic mode. After colored television came along, well after a while it breathed new life into even that,” Fu said with a wistful smile, as he turned towards his kwami.

            The kwami laughed. “I’ll admit, I hadn’t expected humanity to get to space anywhere near as fast as they did. I must admit that I found NASA particularly impressive in terms of their rates of progress. Those were exciting times,” he said.

            “I was better too, back then,” Fu said, a moment of music left hanging in the room as the kwami waited for him to continue.

            “The younger me knew how to plan a battle, and almost never failed to break an opponent once they reached the peak of their power,” Fu reminisced. “Though I owe the second part of that strategy to someone who allowed me the turn the most decisive strikes back onto an opponent, to turn their greatest weapons into their unsuspecting losses”.

            “We make a good team,” the smaller being offered. “I left that in the present tense for a reason you know. Human time is limited, but most of you manage to grow during it,” he paused. “The Wang Fu that I met many years ago and who you are right now might seem like night and day to someone with a lifespan like yours. But I’ve seen that your greatest strengths, your creativity and perseverance, have only grown with the passage of time,” Wayzz declared.

            “Thank you, old friend,” the man said with a light chuckle. “I needed that.”

            “It’s often the people who care for others the most who need someone in their corner,” the turtle observed. “I’m the embodiment of protection, I think I can handle protecting someone from their own sentiments,” he reassured.

“That being said… Why this record though? Why now?” the kwami asked.

            Sinatra’s voice cut into the silence left by the old man’s contemplation.

“Fill my heart with song  
And let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, I love you”

           

            The man sighed. “That about sums it up,” he conceded, as if the words of the singer were his own. “For me, the sixties were an era of hope. The friends I had and I had come out of World War One and World War Two, and we had emerged from those trials as stronger people. I had friends who were young and alive, I had finally managed to come into my own as a proper guardian, and everything looked good. It seemed like a the kind of happy ending that an author bestows on a beloved character,” Fu paused. “This particular record was a souvenir from an old friend of mine. We hadn’t managed to meet after the recent war, but she sent me this as a way of saying that all was well… The gesture meant more to me than she could ever know”.

            He sighed, looking out of his window, the retreating sun painting the French skyscape with the hue of a gently bruised peach. “I suppose that I chose this record because I needed something to anchor me. It’s been the better part of a century since I’ve had to contend with government powers actively seeking the power of the miraculous… The last lime that happened, things were not resolved easily. Wayzz, this record reminds me that there’s a peace that can only be found by facing adversity with courage. To that end, I stand ready to equip the heroes that I send out, to do good, as others have done before me.”

            The kwami stared in awe. He gazed upon the continuation of a legacy whose foundations had been lost by the very man who represented it, yet embodied its ideals with an unassailable purity. Wang Fu was the kind of man who pushed forwards because it was the right way to go. Even though many of Fu’s fellow comrades had permanently retired, the kwami was impressed by his sheer wherewithal to stand against evil, oftentimes without another human at his back. It was a willingness to go on that spoke volumes to the theoretically immortal being, it was nearly transcendent.

            “Tomorrow, Trixx will arrive with Kagami. It appears that she has accepted our appeal,” Fu broke in to the kwami’s thoughts.

            “When they come, we will be ready. Always have been, always will be,” the kwami replied with an air of constancy one could expect from a tried and true turtle.

            “Yes,” Fu affirmed. “We are the ones who must be ready for tomorrow, so that the true stars may shine brightly.”

            “The North star is old,” the kwami softly commented. “But it’s sheen serves as a guiding light for others. Heroism is a rough journey for those without a beacon”.

            “Yes,” Fu nodded, with a slight grimace. “It is. Though I think we made it out okay.” he smiled at his kwami.

            “We did, didn’t we,” Wayzz replied. Leaving a wave of nostalgia so thick that it could almost be felt by each of the five senses.

            “However,” Fu pivoted. “Yesterday was yesterday. Today, I’m going to order some dinner and go over the document’s I’ve prepared for Kagami’s upcoming trip to Germany,” Fu resolved.

            “About that, how are you going to convince her parents?” Wayzz asked.

            “Have you ever heard of the Frankfurt International Fencing Association?” the man asked the kwami.

            “I can’t say that I have,” replied Wayzz. “I assume that this organization will be celebrating its anniversary around a year from now?” the kwami jovially queried.

            “You catch on fast,” Fu commented as he walked over to the phone. “I have an official website set up and some documents for the application process, among other things,” the guardian elaborated. “The ‘program’ will take place from next Friday through the following Monday if all goes well.”

            “Wang Fu setting up a website… I know you’re devoted to your duties as a guardian, but you’ve really outdone yourself this time,” the kwami laughed.

            “You know that Java was one of my hobbies in the early 2000s. A platform independent language is a useful asset,” the old man added with a laugh of his own.

            “I suppose you’re right,” the kwami conceded, still laughing at the idea of the guardian in front of a computer.

            Fu pulled out his phone. “Hello, I’d like to order one of your pasta specials for delivery.” It was going to be a long night, but it would certainly be a rewarding one.


	10. Wunderful Nights

            “Things are going well,” a female voice conceded. “Between your team’s initial findings and the expected influx of funds from the French government that you’ve managed to rally, which I frankly hadn’t counted on, there are no areas in which I can criticize your performance,” the voice stated with an even tone.

            “Heh!” a chuckle escaped the other occupant of the room, the energy of his laugh rolling through his shoulders, all the way to his legs, as the leather swivel chair beneath him shook. “I’m honored to hear such praise from you,” the man responded. “I’ll admit, I was feeling nervous when I heard that you wanted to schedule an impromptu meeting with me in one of the interrogation rooms, especially after yesterday’s events. At the worst, I feared that you would demand a report of my entire research team’s activities for the past forty-eight hours and see me promptly dismissed,” he continued, locking his eyes onto his conversation partner across the short, white table that separated them.

            “Rest assured, your fears were unfounded,” the female voice appeased. “While I’m not going to take any administrative actions at this time, yesterday’s… findings certainly left an impression on me,” she raised her eyebrows at the man, inviting him to speak.

            “Findings, you say?” the man responded as a more nervous smile crept across his face. “Nothing gets past you, does it? You’d be surprised how many people approached me asking whether I was going to fire the researcher responsible for that ‘lab accident,’” he said, attempting to reclaim his earlier collected tone. “Of course, I’m sure you realize that the only ‘accident’ that happened in room 403 yesterday was that the poor researcher didn’t install the stone correctly, he’s lucky that no one was hurt,” the man finished.

            “Lucky indeed,” the woman agreed. “I called you here to talk about yesterday’s findings. I understand you’ve yet to make a formal presentation to our sponsors concerning the miraculous stone involved?” she inquired, scrutinizing the man with her silver-rimmed glasses as she waited for an answer.

            “Are you sure that you haven’t been using my miraculous of insight?” the man joked, seemingly unperturbed by her latest question. “Your understanding is correct, I’ve yet to make an official report about my second successful binding, or, as you might be intrigued by, the shape of the second miraculous stone,” he answered in an attempt to gauge how far she wanted to take their conversation.

            “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like you to keep it that way,” the female responded curtly. Out of all of the possible outcomes of their meeting, the man had not expected that request. “The Wunderstein group has, of course, requested the production of a miraculous stone with military applications. However, before your research team makes any presentation of the second stone to our clients, I’d like to make sure that it’s not too powerful for use by foreign governments. Yesterday’s incident notwithstanding, I’ve had that concern ever since I learned what concept had been bound, though the shape of the stone made the writing on the wall fairly clear,” she explained, finally diving into the heart of the matter.

            The man gave her a nearly pitying smile. “The most dangerous miraculous stones are the ones that are used the most creatively. Making one that I feel comfortable letting a government use has always been a game of limitation rather than reaching for potential. Even my miraculous of insight is too dangerous to place in potentially corrupt hands.” He paused. “Though if it would make you more comfortable, we can stop by my lab and I can introduce you to the kwami of regeneration.”

            “I’d like that,” the female voice said, rising out of her chair with a warm smile. “Meeting new kwamis is probably my favorite part of this research. Though I probably owe that to Iris,” she commented.

            “My kwami does have a way with words I suppose,” the man mused, amusedly. “Shall we be going?” He asked as he rose from his seat with a flourish.

            “Yes, we shall” the woman commanded as she opened the door.

            The two walked down a long hallway, lit primarily by moonlight as opposed to the dim lights overhead. Soon, they reached a green-tiled elevator, which the woman activated with her badge. They traveled upwards in silence, towards a small reception room on the ground floor. From there, they took a shuttle to another building in the Wunderstein complex, this time it was the man who swiped his badge across the authentication panel before they entered. After another trip in a red-tiled elevator, bright lights from the ceiling greeted the duo as they made their way across the fourth floor of the research building, before stopping at the unassuming room 403 and entering. The man grabbed a set of glasses from a table on the left side of the room.

            “Back so soon? I knew it was a possibility, but it’s still good to see you,” a new voice declared.

            “It’s good to see you too, Iris,” the man responded. “You might have deduced this already, but I’ve returned tonight to show Dr. Morphic the new miraculous.

            “I guessed as much,” Iris confirmed. “Well, let’s get to it! Which demo should we run for her?”

            “Which demo indeed,” the man contemplated. “I’m tempted to run the water demo, it’s a fun one that never fails to impress”.

            “The water demo?” Dr. Morphic questioned.

            “One moment please,” the man said as he retrieved an empty basin and placed a fist-sized orb inside of it. After that, he filled the basin with water and placed it in an empty sink. “And now, doctors and kwamis, I present, the water demo!” the man exclaimed. “Starz, it’s your time to shine!”

            On cue, the orb began to seemingly absorb the water in the basin before spraying it upwards, like a geyser. The water then cascaded back down into the basin as the cycle repeated.

            After about two minutes of watching Dr. Morphic marvel at the fountain that was sustained by the miraculous orb, the man spoke again. “Starz, that’s enough for now!”

            “Hmm, I guess it is,” a voice rang from the orb in the basin. “Though I do like these demos,” the voice continued as a small starfish floated out of the orb.

            “Dr. Morphic, I have the distinct pleasure of introducing you to the kwami of regeneration, Starz.”

            “It’s nice to meet you,” the doctor said with a warm smile as she turned her attention to the starfish-like creature floating in mid-air about three feet from her.

            “Hmm, I suppose it is,” Starz concluded. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he stated factually.

            “Sorry if our resident regenerator can seem somewhat dry at times, he’s not quite used to people yet,” the man offered as an explanation for the kwami’s disposition.

            “I suppose not,” the starfish kwami agreed as he spun slowly in midair. “Perhaps that will change, in time.”

            “In any case, I hope you found this demo adequate in demonstrating some of the things Starz’s power can be used for, doctor,” the man said, redirecting the conversation to save Starz from any further social blunders.

            “Quite,” Dr. Morphic replied. “We’re going to have to have meetings like this more often, don’t you think?” she asked rhetorically. “Though I suppose this will do for now.”

            “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the man responded as he began to pack up his materials and stow Starz’s orb in a drawer.

            “Leaving so soon?” Iris questioned.

            “I’m afraid so. Even I have to rest sometime,” the man explained as he set his glasses back on the table, causing the kwami to vanish.

            “Shall we be going?” he asked as he held the door open for Dr. Morphic.

            “We shall,” the doctor affirmed with a small nod. “Keep up the good work.”


	11. Secret Saturday

            The Sun, bright, yellow, large, looks over the Earth as a limited observer, seeing in part the subject of its attention, but never the whole at once. Similarly, the people of the Earth use telescopes and formulas to gaze at celestial bodies, but cannot truly understand their full depth.

            However, this cosmic lack of understanding is impressive in its failure to prevent people from understanding things in abstraction. A girl in France can understand that the bands of light leaking through her window mean that it’s approximately 6:30 AM and that it is time to get out of bed. She does not need knowledge of the Sun’s innermost qualities to deduce this. She does, however, pause at the sight of a floating creature, foxlike in its appearance, bending those bands of light into a spinning top and then watching it spin lazily in the air.

            “Someone’s up early,” Trixx said with a hint of surprise in his voice as the luminous top dissolved into soft light rays.

            “I often find it helps you get more out of the day,” Kagami said, sitting up on her bed. She stretched, slowly extending her arms above her head to their full length before relaxing them at her side. A thought came to her. “Do kwami’s need to sleep?”

            “Need is a strong word,” Trixx replied, mulling over the question. “We don’t have to have sleep, but it certainly helps our temperaments and mental acuity. Food, on the other hand, is an absolute must! Especially after hard work,” Trixx commented, on the verge of visibly salivating at the prospect of his favorite meal. “You don’t happen to have any strawberries around, do you?” Trixx inquired, hopeful eagerness radiating from his body.

            “I think we have some in the kitchen,” Kagami confirmed. “Why?”

            “They just happen to be my favorite food of all time!” the small creature squealed. “I should explain. Each kwami has an affinity for certain types of food. Eating those types of foods gives them more energy than eating other things. The type of food I enjoy most is berries, which on an unrelated note is a much better type than dairy products. However, even among berries, strawberries give me a really high amount of energy, and they happen to taste awesome too!” Trixx explained, now freely zooming about the room in anticipation of his next meal.

            “Well then,” Kagami laughed as she swung her legs over the side of her bed. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed for the day and leave a note for my parents, and then we’ll see about getting you some strawberries.”

            “Okay, but don’t take too long!” Trixx implored. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday!”

            The kwami fluttered anxiously outside of Kagami’s bedroom door, their previous discussion having driven his mind into his stomach. A few minutes, and some delicious strawberries later, it was restored to its proper place.

            “Thanks, Kagami. Those were really good,” Trixx contentedly declared.

            “No problem,” Kagami responded as she finished the last of her oatmeal. She conversationally pointed her spoon at the kwami. “So, when are we going to start my ‘Chinese lessons’?” Kagami inquired.

            “Well…” Trixx said with a sly grin. “I suppose we can start them right now!”

            “What do you mean, ‘right now’?” Kamagi asked confusedly.

            Trixx grinned “Instead of taking the normal way to the guardian’s residence, we’re going on a stealth mission!” he exclaimed happily. “Basically, you’ll get to change into a superhero and have some fun practicing stealth,” the orange kwami explained.

            “So, it’s a low stakes trial run of sorts?” Kagami asked.

            “Not quite low stakes. It might create some minor unrest if some news reporters catch you on camera, or if a citizen sees a superhero running around,” Trixx cautioned. “If that happens, we’ll regroup and ‘normally’ approach the Guardian’s place.”

            “I think I understand,” Kagami said. “The Guardian’s residence is that location you marked on my phone last night, right?”

            “That’s the one!” Trixx affirmed. “Oh, there’s one more thing that I should tell you. Most kwamis use a transformation phrase so that it’s easy for us to know when you want us to transform,” Trixx explained. “Some people, quite unoriginally, literally use the word ‘transform,’ if you can believe it. As for me, I typically use ‘Trixx, let’s pounce!’ and ‘Trixx, show’s over!’ for transformation and de-transformation respectively,” the tiny creature said as he struck a pose during each phrase.

            “Do your partners typically do those poses, too?” Kagami asked, amused.

            “Of course!” Trixx proclaimed. “The poses are what brings the whole superhero package together!”

            Kagami gave this proclamation an amused eye roll. “Well, there’s no time like the present,” she said as she stood up. “Where does one typically transform anyway?” she asked her kwami.

            “Anywhere isolated, really. Though it’s probably nor best to do it in a house in case someone spots you before you leave. That really narrows down the number of people who could be the superhero in question”.

“I can imagine,” Kagami agreed. “Well, it’s 6:30. Since it’s fairly early, I think an alley outside should do the trick, no pun intended.”

“Kagami,” Trixx deadpanned. “I’m the kwami of illusion, puns are welcome literally at all times if they’re well-delivered.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the girl said with a smile as she started to walk out. “Oh, Trixx, I packed some strawberries in a Tupperware container in my purse if you get hungry.”

Trixx giggled. “I think I like you already! The transformation can accommodate a bag in addition to typical outerwear, so that should be fine.”

Kagami nodded. She boldly walked outside of her house to a nearby alley. She breathed in, and then out. “Let’s do this,” she said after confirming the address on her phone. “Trixx, let’s pounce!” Kagami exclaimed as she tried to mimic Trixx’s earlier pose. An orange light enveloped her, as her clothes seemed to morph into an orange and white fox-themed costume. “Weird, but interesting,” she thought to herself.

Trixx had mentioned that her physical abilities would be enhanced in this form. “How much?” the girl pragmatically wondered. A loaded jump upwards that put her about ten feet in the air was a promising start. Repeating that move, after balancing herself on a fire escape, found Kagami on the roof of a house on her street. “This is surreal!” she thought to herself as she crouched low on the roof. Her new position caused her to notice that there was a… “flute?” she thought, strapped to her side. She would have to ask Trixx about that, later. “In the meantime,” she muttered to herself. “I think I’m supposed to go that way,” Kagami said as she began her stealthy rooftop trek to the Guardian’s residence.

As it turned out, not many Parisians were out and about between the hours of six and seven that Saturday and Kagami arrived at her destination without a hitch.

She hopped down into an alleyway near the Guardian’s abode. “Trixx, show’s over,” Kagami commanded.

Her outfit vanished in a burst of orange photons as the aforementioned kwami appeared at her side. “I’d say that went pretty well for your first run,” Trixx complimented, pleased that his exercise had been a success.

“It was nice,” Kagami agreed. “What’s with that flute, though?” she asked.

“Oh, you can use that to use my illusion ability while transformed. Just think about the illusion you want to create and blow into it. But be careful, the transformation will drop about five minutes after you use that power,” Trixx explained, floating around to the front of his wielder. “The Guardian should be expecting us. I typed his room number on your phone.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what the room number is again?” Kagami asked.

“You never know who might be listening,” Trixx mysteriously replied.

Kagami pulled out her phone as she walked over to the apartment building. She pressed the corresponding button on the buzzer. A voice spoke.

“Hello?”

It was the old man’s voice. Frankly, Kagami was unsurprised. It would have made less sense if it weren’t him.

“This is Kagami,” she answered. “I’m here for some Chinese lessons.”

“I see,” the voice replied. “I’ll buzz you in then.”

The electronic lock on the apartment’s front door clicked, allowing Kagami entry. She stepped forward.

When Kagami found her way to the room with the number that matched the one on her phone, she knocked. Nothing happened.

“Allow me,” Trixx said smugly, as he phased through the door. The lock clicked. “The Guardian doesn’t get many visitors, and he recently came up with the idea of having a visitor’s kwami open the door as an ID check of sorts,” Trixx explained.

“If we’re going to ignore the fact that you can pass through solid matter, then I can understand that idea,” Kagami wearily said. “Just what have I gotten myself into?” she wondered as she opened the unlocked door.

The old man was sitting cross-legged on a mat. He seemed to be meditating, which was odd, considering the fact that he was expecting a visitor. Kagami watched him. He was the second person she’d seen in her life that could radiate intense focus without opening their eyes.

“I’ve been expecting you,” the Guardian declared without opening his eyes. “Come in, sit down, we have a lot to talk about.”

Kagami took a place opposite to the Guardian on the mat. “I’m listening,” she said.

“How much has Trixx told you?” the Guardian asked.

“He mentioned a mission in Germany involving research documents,” came her curt reply. “I assume you’ll be filling me in on the finer aspects of this mission, Mr. Chan,” she said, emphasizing his name.

“I’d say that’s an accurate statement,” Mr. Chan replied, seemingly oblivious to her implied question. “I don’t know how much information Trixx was able to give you, but, in short, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to secretly infiltrate the Wunderstein research facility in Frankfurt, secure any of their essential research materials, and obtain any miraculous stones in their possession, if possible,” the Guardian explained.

“Trixx told me that much in so many words,” Kagami confirmed. “How exactly am I supposed to get to Frankfurt though?”

The old man smiled. “One of my contacts in the Frankfurt International Fencing Association was kind enough to provide documents that make it seem as if you have been invited to participate in their annual competition next weekend. Here’s a card with the link to their website if you want more details,” Mr. Chan said as he handed Kagami a card.

“Okay…” Kagami said. “I think I can get my parents to go for that, provided your ‘contact’ would be willing to talk to them over the phone.”

“That can easily be arranged,” the Guardian said with a smile and a small nod. “This goes without saying, but flight expenses will also be covered.”

“I should hope so,” The junior fencer said with a smile. “It would be hard to get this plan of yours off the ground otherwise.”

The man laughed. “I see Trixx is already rubbing off on you. That pun makes it quite plain to see.”

“I try,” Kagami said, with a giggle of her own. “Assuming all goes well with my parents, when do I fly out?” she asked the Guardian.

“I currently have tickets for Friday afternoon, if that’s alright,” he responded. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t arrange something so quickly, but I fear that research is a time-sensitive matter,” Mr. Chan explained.

“I’m curious, what part of this qualifies as ordinary?” Kagami asked.

“My apologies,” the old man replied with a chuckle. “I was speaking in the context of arranging things for heroes. I fully realize that this entire situation is far from ordinary for you and would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your willingness to help,” he appeased.

“It’s fine,” Kagami said. “Weirdness aside, this is pretty cool. But why me though?”

The man paused, staring contemplatively at his conversation partner with sealed eyes. “One of the most important things I look for in a perspective wielder is character. Without going into more detail, I can say that you were highly spoken of in that regard.”

“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with Adrien by chance, would it?” Kagami asked, threatening to shatter the older man’s aloof stance.

“That sense of perception will serve you well in the future,” the Guardian complimented. “It’s very rare that I have a case where one of my actual Chinese students refers me to someone suited to take my other brand of ‘Chinese lessons,’ I’ll have to thank him later”.

“Wait, you’re saying that he’s not a hero? With all due respect, that makes no sense. If character is the metric you’re looking for, that boy has it in excess!” she exclaimed.

Fu smiled. “I’m well aware that one of my students is in line for sainthood, Kagami. However, he also has a relatively busy life as a model that would interfere with the potential duties of a superhero. It’s a shame really, he would have made an excellent Chat Noir.”

“I suppose… you’re right,” Kagami conceded. “I simply assumed that since well, Trixx used ‘Chinese lessons’ as a code for a miraculous-related meeting, that he was somehow involved.

The Guardian held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “A perfectly reasonable assumption,” he assured. “However, I’m afraid the truth is much less glamorous. My station as the Guardian of the miraculous doesn’t exactly have a hefty paycheck attached to it. However, teaching Mandarin to the nation’s bourgeoisie has helped me fatten my wallet somewhat.”

“That… makes sense, I suppose,” Kagami said. “But seriously, you’re missing out on Adrien, there,” she reiterated.

The Guardian laughed. “Believe me, if he ever grows tired of his career as a model, I’ll definitely express my interest,” the old man assured. “But for now, is there anything else that you would like to know concerning your mission in Frankfurt?”

Kagami stopped to think. “My parents will probably want a video of me fencing in the event,” she finally said after half-a-minute.

“I’ve already had Trixx help me film all of the matches in the competition via his illusions,” the Guardian said with a proud smile. “You got second place, in case you were wondering. You were barely edged out by a chestnut-haired girl from Japan,” he explained.

“What was her name?” Kagami asked before blushing fiercely as she realized that she’d just asked for the name of a fictitious person.

“I’d have to check, but I think her name sounded like the English words ‘at sauna.’ I was running low on inspiration at the time and decided on that while I was relaxing in a hot tub,” he explained. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason!” Kagami blurted out, still reeling over her earlier blunder.

“I see,” the Guardian said as he opened his eyes for the first time during their meeting.

Kagami facepalmed. “And you commented on _my_ pun,” she said in disbelief.

The Guardian laughed. “Have Trixx tell you about the Festival of Jokers, some of the comedians on stage were so good that reporters said that they stole the hearts of the audience members. After going to an event like that, you develop an amazing appreciation for comedy,” he offered as an explanation.

“It’s true!” Trixx interjected, emerging from Kagami’s purse with a half-eaten strawberry. “The King of Jokers that year did an awesome trick on a boat with a cat, a skull, and a fox, and his assistant was a real queen of the stage too!” the kwami recalled jubilantly.

“You’ll have to tell me more about this show later,” Kagami said before standing. “Can I have your phone number in case I think of any more questions?” she asked the Guardian.

“Of course!” the man said. “Trixx, you can type it into her phone later.”

“Why not just tell me now?” Kagami asked, confusedly.

“Information related to my person is usually disseminated secretly,” the old man explained. “You never know who might be reading.”

“Reading what?” Kagami asked, even more confused than before.

“Text messages of course! If I were to text you my number, it might not be secure,” the man replied, before chuckling, as if he was enjoying an inside joke. “If all goes well, I’ll see you next Friday. Thanks again for meeting with me,” the Guardian said as a polite dismissal.

“Right, see you then,” Kagami said as she left, now thoroughly perplexed. She hadn’t asked him to text her his number... “Maybe I’m just reading too much into it,” she thought as she left the building.

“What do you want to do today?” a voice queried from her purse.

“Well, first, let’s go home. It’s only about 7:30, so if I hurry I think I’ll have time for a morning swim.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Trixx exclaimed. “Want to travel in style?” the kwami asked.

“Why not?” Kagami said with a grin as she veered into an alleyway.

“Trixx, let’s pounce!”


	12. Social Saturday

The moon is not like the sun. It has flaws. It knows that it has flaws. Behind the esoteric face that the moon shows the world is a dark side with more craters than it would care to show the Earth, fearing its judgement. Perhaps it’s self-conscious. What the moon fails to realize is that each and every one of its craters is not a flaw. They are medals of valor earned in the great duty of defending the Earth. The moon does not think itself pretty enough for the Earth, which is sad, because the Earth thinks that the moon is beautiful.

            Marinette woke up to her 9:30 alarm, having gracefully dodged the chimes that had emanated from her phone at 8:15, 8:30, 8:45, 9:00, and 9:15. Each peal was a fatal blow to her ongoing pursuit of slumber that sought to mercilessly drag her to the world of the waking. Alas, the 9:30 alarm found its mark.

            “Good morning!” Tikki cheerfully chirped as she saw her Chosen stir. “Did you sleep well?” the red kwami asked, still amused at Marinette’s tendency to wake up late even after knowing her as long as she had.

            “Good morning… What time is it?” came a groggy voice from Marinette’s bed. Its owner was trying to find purchase on the hard rocks of reality from her earlier adventure in the sea of dreams.

            “That’ll be 9:32,” Tikki answered after checking Marinette’s phone.

            The girl erupted from her bed. “I’m going to be late!” she cried.

            “But, it’s Saturday…” Tikki replied, confused.

            “I know!” Marinette responded as she stumbled towards her bathroom. “I told Alya, Nino, and Adrien that I’d meet up with them for a Brunch at 10:00!”

            “That does seem familiar,” the red kwami murmured. “I guess we’d better get ready! It’s not like we’ve let tight schedules stop us before.”

            “Yeah, but we’ve cut it close a lot too,” Marinette said with a nervous chuckle. “I think we can make it if we leave within 10 minutes.”

            “Sounds like a plan!” Tikki affirmed.

            Tikki floated towards Marinette’s purse while she waited for Marinette to finish getting ready, checking to see if she needed to pack cookies. Sure enough, the purse had a distinct lack of baked goods that could pose an inconvenience later on. “This is why we’re a two-person team,” the red kwami thought to herself. “Marinette helps save Paris and I help save her. Well, save her from unnecessary trouble at least,” she contemplated as she floated down towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery. It wasn’t too hard for Tikki to grab a cookie or two from the back while Marinette’s parents were in the front of the shop.

            By the time Tikki completed her stealth mission, wrapped the cookies, and placed them in Marinette’s purse, the aforementioned girl had just finished getting dressed.

            “All set?” Tikki asked.

            “Yep!” Marinette cheerfully replied as she stepped out onto her balcony. “Tikki spots on!”

            A red-clad superhero appeared in the place where Marinette stood moments before. “Alright! Adrien, here I come,” the superheroine muttered to herself as she leaped off the roof. 9:50… she would be just fine.

            So it was that Marinette walked into the restaurant and joined Alya, Nino, and Adrien five minutes after the hour.

            “Nino Lahiffe, I believe you owe me five euros,” a smug Alya proclaimed.

            “What are you doing?” Marinette asked confusedly.

            “Losing money for betting that you would arrive on time,” a slightly put-out Nino answered as he forked over a five-euro bill.

            “I tried to warn you, buddy,” Adrien consoled. “Rule number one of making bets: only make bets that you have a good chance of winning.”

            “Amen to that!” Alya exclaimed as she deposited the bill in her purse. “Honestly, being right is the most fun part of a bet, the money is a bonus.”

            “Heh, I should have known better than to bet against an ace reporter I guess. It figures you’d be well informed,” Nino lamented.

            “Should I be insulted that you guys were betting on whether I’d arrive late or not?” Marinette asked wearily. “I thought we came here to eat stuff.”

            “And eat stuff, we shall!” Alya responded with an eager grin. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, the Super Saturday Social Pancake Challenge!”

            “The what?” Marinette asked with a puzzled expression.

            Adrien laughed. “When we were talking about what to get earlier, Alya found out that the restaurant was offering an all-you-can-eat style pancake challenge,” Adrien explained. “From what I understand, a group of four or more can attempt the challenge and try to split twenty ‘super pancakes’ between them. If the group finishes all of the pancakes, they get the meal free.”

            “How big is a ‘super pancake’?” Marinette warily asked.

            “It says here, that they have a diameter of 0.25 meters. But if that sounds like too much, we can always pick something else,” Alya lightly teased, knowing her friend would jump towards the challenge.

            “No way! I’m not backing down from a challenge that easily, Alya,” Marinette confidently declared, though the red-haired girl was sure she’d seen a flash of fear in her best friend’s eyes for a second.

            “In that case,” Nino began. “I’ll place the order!”

            A few minutes of lighthearted conversation later, the four friends were greeted by two muscled waiters who bore a tray of twenty super pancakes, some comically large plates, and four sets of utensils. Even Alya balked at the sheer mass that was set down upon the table. If she were sitting across from someone with that pile in the way, she’d have to partially stand up just to see them. Adrien was beginning to worry about his father catching wind of his participation in an all-you-can-eat pancake challenge. They hadn’t had an explicit discussion about things like this, but somehow Adrien doubted that this was an ideal way for a model to spend their time.

            “Bonjour Madames et Messieurs,” one of the waiters spoke in a booming, deep voice. “My name is Michel and I will be supervising your Super Saturday Social Pancake Challenge. We hope you enjoy this stack of twenty ‘super pancakes’ and have a super good time eating them. You may now begin!”

            Nino and Alya each hefted a pancake off of the stack and put it on their plates before a, relatively slower, Adrien and Marinette did the same. There was no backing out now. Alya and Nino began to voraciously tear at their pancakes in a competition to see which of the two could finish theirs the fastest. Marinette could only hope that there wasn’t another bet behind this competition. Adrien also seemed to be eating eagerly but didn’t even approach Alya and Nino’s rate of devouring their pancakes. Marinette ate at a normal pace, thinking to herself that it wasn’t a speed challenge. She also didn’t think that she had any chance of matching Alya’s pace for a prolonged amount of time.

            About ten minutes later, Alya and Nino had finished three and a half super pancakes, but for some reason couldn’t eat another bite.

            “Dude, I don’t feel so good,” Nino groaned.

            “That’s indigestion for you,” Adrien responded. “When you’re eating large meals like this, it’s usually a good idea to pace yourself,” he advised, between servings of pancake. Adrien himself had finished about two and one-quarter super pancakes but felt significantly better than the previously-voracious duo of Alya and Nino.

            “Mari, I can’t go on!” Alya lamented. “These super pancakes are just too huge!”

            Marinette giggled, she had only finished one and a half super pancakes herself. “I think you’re right Alya,” she agreed. Marinette turned to the waiter. “Excuse me, I think we’d like to concede.”

            “I see,” the waiter responded jovially. “Not many customers can complete the Super Saturday Social Pancake Challenge, but, for what it’s worth, this is the most I’ve seen someone in your age group eat. You all gave it a good effort,” the waiter said approvingly. “There is, however, the small matter of the bill. Regrettably, only winners of the challenge can eat free. So, I’m afraid the total for twenty super pancakes and additional supervising fees comes out to forty euros.”

            “Adrien,” Nino began. “Save us! My wallet can’t take any more abuse,” he pleaded.

            “Relax, I’ve got this,” the model warmly assured as he handed a card to the waiter. “That was a fun challenge though. I’m stuffed.”

            “You can say that again,” Alya seconded. “I knew they made these challenges difficult to win, but this was downright impossible!” the redhead proclaimed.

            After the waiter returned with Adrien’s card, the group parted ways. Adrien’s bodyguard arrived to take him back to the Agreste mansion, Nino went home to recover from the Super Saturday Social Pancake Challenge, and Alya and Marinette set off for the Dupain-Cheng bakery to hang out. All things considered, it was shaping up to be a good Saturday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I genuinely believe that every story deserves a moment or two where the characters can relax and eat pancakes


	13. A Man Who Resonates with the People

            A camera recorded Gabriel Agreste walking in front of various members of his staff, who were sporting and carrying some of his showcased summer designs. “Here at Gabriel, we believe that our customers should be able to look their best in any season,” a male narrator began. “And that’s why we’re lowering the prices of our new summer design sales to help keep your money in your pocket!” the voice continued as a camera followed Gabriel to the storefront where various actors were buying and selling a multitude of outfits. “Because here at Gabriel, our customers are more than fashion, they’re family,” the narrator finished as the camera cut to a Gabriel logo.

            Gabriel Agreste had started running that advertisement on Sunday. It was now Wednesday. It wasn’t the PR department’s best work, but he could give them some slack this once. After all, it was a rush job and, this time, the content of the message was arguably more important than its delivery. A phone chimed from within one of his desk drawers. He picked it up.

            _Mars_ : I’m where I need to be.

            It was a short text, vague too, but it brought a smile to the fashion designer’s face. It was nice to know that there was, at least, some good news to look forward to in the coming weeks. He replaced the phone in the drawer. There was no need to respond, and if he happened to send a message that was intercepted by a tech-savvy adversary… it would put a damper on his mood. That gave him an idea.

            “Nooroo,” Gabriel called. “I wish to learn more about your powers, explain them to me.”

            The butterfly kwami materialized. “I-I’m not sure there’s much that you don’t already know, master,” Nooroo replied, seemingly shaken by the request.

            Gabriel shook his head. “If I recall correctly, you are the kwami of transmission,” he stated factually. “During the process of making an akuma, I use your abilities in order to transmit power to an emotionally vulnerable target,” Gabriel continued, now leaning over in his chair towards the kwami. “I fully realize that this is not the only way to make use of your power. I wish to learn from the experiences of my predecessors,” the designer finished.

            “I um, well…” Nooroo was at a loss for words. There were, of course, things he could share, but he had an uneasy feeling that whatever information he gave to Gabriel might end up doing more harm than good. On the other hand, he wasn’t going to get away with sharing nothing. “Some of my previous users used a different array of emotions than you usually do,” the purple kwami offered as he lowered himself onto the table. “You’ve actually had experience with this yourself. If you’ll recall the akuma Catalyst, your assistant. In that case, the akuma used Nathalie’s feelings of… camaraderie as a base for the akumatization,” Nooroo explained.

            “I see,” Gabriel contemplated. “And what, pray tell, might the difference in power be of akumas formed with different emotions?” Gabriel asked. This conversation was already proving quite useful to him.

            “That’s, um, actually rather complicated,” Nooroo started. “You see, an akuma’s power actually has no dependence on the kind of emotion it uses.” Nooroo hesitated, slowly turning to face the villain. “The thing that matters most is the strength of the emotion,” Nooroo finished. Hopefully, that would be enough to slake his master’s curiosity.

            “I suspected as much,” Gabriel mused, seemingly lost in thought.

            Nooroo was quite relieved, he felt as if he had done a Paris a great service that day by not telling Gabriel things like how people that had stronger connections to his holder would make for higher quality akumas, how Nooroo had the power to transmit more than just power, or how-

            “Nooroo,” Gabriel broke into his train of thought. “Is it possible for you to use your powers in ways that don’t involve akumatizing people?”

            “That’s a very broad question,” Nooroo countered. It wasn’t often that he actively resisted Gabriel but the world could thank him later.

            Gabriel laughed. “I suppose it is. Though I can afford to find out the exact answer to that question later. Allow me to try another.”

            Alarm bells were ringing in Nooroo’s head. He had dropped any pretense of composure and was now sneakily scooting towards the edge of the table, in a futile hope that the distance might offer him respite.

           “Can you make an akuma have a subtle appearance?” Gabriel asked.

            “That was it?” Nooroo wondered. There were much more dooming questions that Gabriel could have asked. Secretly, the purple kwami was quite relieved. “If you’ll recall Vanisher, that’s certainly within my power,” Nooroo responded.

            Gabriel shook his head with a sinister smile “I have something else in mind,” he elucidated. “Specifically, I’m wondering if you can make an akumatized person appear to be their normal selves, without the usual flashy outfits, and have effects that are not reversed upon their deakumatization.”

            “Those are dangerous questions,” Nooroo thought. Ladybug and Chat Noir might struggle with a plainclothes akuma. Honestly, Nooroo himself was awed when one of his earlier wielders sprung the idea upon him. But that was neither here nor there, the kwami reasoned. That kind of power was too dangerous for his current wielder to- “The first part of your request is entirely possible!” Nooroo suddenly exclaimed as he felt a strong, almost oppressive, force come over him.

            “Was that so hard to say?” Gabriel asked with a playful smile as he fiddled with a device. “That book on the miraculous never ceases to impress,” he mused to himself. “I trust you will be more forthcoming about the second part of my request,” Gabriel added, adopting a sterner tone.

            “I-In theory, all akuma’s have effects that l-last beyond their deakumatization,” Nooroo responded, visibly shaken by whatever it was that Gabriel had done. “It’s Ladybug’s ability that reverts whatever effects have taken place.”

            “Does this reversion power of hers have limits?” Gabriel calmly asked.

            “P-Please don’t make me answer that question,” Nooroo pleaded.

            Gabriel smiled, so there were limits then. “I’m feeling magnanimous Nooroo, so you may have your wish. I will not force you to answer that question,” the butterfly holder amicably stated. The kwami visibly beamed with gratitude. “However,” the man continued with a smile of his own. “I sense we have work to do,” he announced with a sense of purpose as he began the ascent to his lair. The purple kwami followed.

            A tempest of small white wings rose to compliment the pair of darkness in their presence. Each knew of his power, some had experienced it directly, others had not. Nevertheless, they all knew.

            A vision appeared to the silver-helmed man as he reached out for a butterfly. This would be the perfect opportunity to try something new.

            It was evening. A girl sat alone on a bed, bristling at the phone in her hands. Hawkmoth looked closer. He peered at the text messages the phone displayed:

           

 _Sender_ \- She’s using you.

 _Big Bro_ \- We share a common interest in music.

 _Sender_ \- It bothers me that _she_ of all people reached out to you for a jam session, especially after her recent tiff with Adrien.

 _Big Bro_ \- Lila Rossi has shown nothing but genuine musical interest to me. It bothers me that _you_ would suggest that she has ulterior motives without evidence. It’s not like you, Jules.

 

            “That’s because you wouldn’t believe me if I told you she was a pathological liar!” the girl wailed aloud as she tugged at her hair, rolling over onto her stomach.

            Hawkmoth was visibly elated. It seemed that Lila Rossi had given him a chance to experiment with a personal theory of his. That girl really seemed to work wonders for him. If she wasn’t so manipulative, he might have considered officially adding her to team Hawkmoth. But for now, testing theories about Nooroo’s powers would have to do. Such were the thoughts that occupied the mind of Hawkmoth as the akuma flitted down onto the girl’s tightly clutched phone. Now the experiment would begin.

            “Juleka, I am Hawkmoth,” the villain began. “It must be hard to watch your brother get deceived by liars like that girl. However, for the small price of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous, I can give you the power to make all of the girls who aren’t worthy of your brother disappear!” Hawkmoth enticed. This was by far the most fun part of the job from his point of view.

            “I’ll protect him, whatever the cost!” the girl promised as she was enveloped in a cloud of dark energy. Once the transformation had finished… there was no appreciable visible difference in the girl’s appearance. However, the screen of her phone was emblazoned with a new butterfly logo with a single line of text: Don’t reveal yourself until it’s too late.

            The girl sauntered out of her room with a smirk. It was time for her to take a walk and rid the streets of Paris of the unworthy girls who would try and steal her brother’s heart.


	14. Juleka

         “Don’t be bemused, It’s just the news! Hi, I’m Nadja Chamack and this morning I’m bringing you some breaking news,” the newscaster began. “Calls have been coming in since yesterday afternoon reporting a sudden strain of disappearances of teenage girls across Paris. At present, there’s no official explanation for these disappearances which now number over thirty. We urge our viewers, especially teenage girls, and their families to exercise caution, and avoid areas where disappearances have been reported” Najda continued as she gestured to a digital map of the city with disappearance sites marked.

         Marinette watched the morning broadcast wide-eyed. The one day she got up early enough to eat a relaxing breakfast before school, this happens. The incidents described in the news had all the tell-tale markings of an akuma, except for an ironically dressed menace demanding the miraculouses of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

         “Do you think it’s an akuma?” the girl asked Tikki hesitantly.

         The small kwami pondered the question. While the disappearances were outside of Hawkmoth’s usual MO, an akuma would explain why there was no official opinion on what could be causing them. “I’m not sure,” the red kwami admitted. “But we should be careful, especially since we don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Tikki cautioned.

         “Right,” Marinette said glumly. “I guess I should head to school for now, until we have new information at least,” she resolved as she rose from her chair. However, just as she was about to walk out of the front door, she was confronted by her parents.

         “Marinete, in light of recent events, your father and I have decided that we would be okay with you staying home from school today,” Sabine led, gesturing to the news report on the downstairs TV.

         It was a tempting offer, to be sure. However, Marinette couldn’t accept. If she was confined to her house, her absence would be noted if a time came for Ladybug to act.

         “I’ll be fine,” Marinette hurriedly assured. “I don’t think whoever is responsible for these disappearances would target a school, anyway. All of the disappearance locations that came up on the news were in public places,” Marinette reasoned, grateful that the morning’s broadcast had given her something to work with.

         Her parents exchanged a worried glance, before turning to their daughter.

         “In that case, I hope you don’t mind me walking you to school this morning,” Tom stated. “Your mom can handle opening the shop today.”

         “Um, yeah! Sure! That’s totally fine!” Marinette hurriedly agreed as she practically leaped out the door before holding it open for her father. It was better than staying home and, truth be told, she was grateful for the company. The fact that she would be safe from disappearing that morning was an added bonus. Even the most brazen criminal would be encouraged to pick another mark if she was accompanied by her, incredibly muscular, father.

         Needless to say, Marinette arrived at Collège Françoise Dupont safely.

         Adrien clearly needed more sleep. He could have sworn that he heard Chloé running towards him moments ago, with her telltale cry of “Adrikins!”. Yet, when he turned around, she was nowhere to be found. Juleka was there though.

         “Hey Juleka, you wouldn’t happen to have seen Chloé by chance?” Adrien questioned.

         “No,” the purple hair girl said with a giggle. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there. Though you’ll excuse me if I find it funny you’re asking after her. Isn’t it usually the other way around?” Juleka asked.

         “Yeah, it is” Adrien agreed. “I thought I heard her though.”

         “Adrien,” the purple haired girl said in a consoling voice. “Whatever did that girl do to you to give you auditory hallucinations?” Juleka joked, failing to contain a second giggle. “You wouldn’t happen to have seen Lila, would you?” she asked.

         Adrien visibly tensed at the name. “And you thought me asking about Chloé was strange,” the boy said as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. “I think I saw her on the second floor, to answer your question,” he replied. “But seriously, what could have possibly possessed you to go looking for Lila? It might not be my place to say this, but she’s not exactly the most trustworthy person around,” Adrien sheepishly asserted.

         “Believe it or not, we have some girl talk to catch up on,” Juleka amusedly explained as she walked towards Adrien. “I appreciate you looking out for me though,” she finished as she gracefully walked towards the staircase.

         “Right,” Adrien yawned tiredly. “As long as you know what you’re getting into,” he said as a final friendly warning before he dragged himself to his first class.

         “Oh, trust me, I do,” Juleka said, her voice filled with a quiet eagerness as she ascended the stairs. Lila Rossi would never know what hit her until it was too late.

         By the time Adrien managed to fully wake himself up, it was the middle of Ms. Bustier’s literature class. The birds were singing outside, the Ms. Bustier was teaching, and there was a relaxing absence of a certain blonde fawning over him at every possible instant. Where was Chloé anyway? Looking back on the events of the morning, he was pretty sure that he had heard her. “I can always ask Plagg later,” he supposed, slowly turning his focus to the lesson. Had he been paying more attention to his surroundings, he might have noticed that Lila wasn’t in class either, nor was Alix.

         Marinette was on edge throughout the school day. Ordinarily, she would have been over the moon on a day where both Chloé and Lila managed, by some force of nature, to not show up at school. However, given the recent disappearances, their absence only served to put the blue-haired girl on her guard. It didn’t help that Alix was missing from her seat too. To top things off, her best friend, Alya Césaire was chewing her pen. To Marinette, that gesture conveyed a very high level of anxiety, which could only mean one thing. Alya was in the dark too.

         Later that evening, Plagg confirmed that Chloé was, indeed, at school that day, meaning that she had for some reason left between arriving at school and the first bell, a perplexing action. Unsettled, Adrien decided to unwind and watch some TV before he went on patrol. He accidentally turned to the news. Unfortunately, it brought more questions than answers.

         “Don’t be bemused, It’s just the news! This is Nadja Chamack bringing you an update on the evolving story of teenage girls disappearing across Paris,” the newswoman began. On Adrien’s side of the TV, the remote was dropped to the floor, even Plagg paused in his pursuit of eating camembert to listen. “As of this evening, no less than forty-seven girls aged between twelve and seventeen have spontaneously disappeared, including the mayor’s daughter, Chloé Bourgeois,” Nadja continued as a picture of Chloé appeared onscreen. “Parisian officials have declared a state of emergency and actively urge teenage girls to remain within their residences for the immediate future.”

         “We’re calling Ladybug,” Adrien stated.

         “Sure, let me just finish this,” Plagg quickly acquiesced as he tried to consume another piece of cheesy goodness. Alas, it was to no avail.

         “Plagg, claws out,” the teen model bade. He was dashing across the roofs of Paris in record time, he had a call to make after all.

         Chat Noir activated the transceiver in his baton. Surprisingly, it was answered on the first ring.

         “I suppose we had the same idea,” the cat-themed superhero began. “you have purrfect timing, My Lady”

         “Chat, now’s really not the time,” an exasperated voice emanated from the device. “We have girls disappearing left and right and unless you’ve found something out, zero leads,” Ladybug continued, her frustration almost tangible.

         “And what if I could tell you that I just so happened to have a clawsome lead myself,” the black cat teased. “Would that impurrove your mood?”

         “Actually yes, it would,” Ladybug responded in a more amicable tone. “Lay it on me, kitty.”

         “Anything for you, bugaboo! I have it on good information that Chloe Bourgeois disappeared between her arrival at school and the first period of classes. Meet me at the Eiffel tower and we can talk about an action plan,” he finished as he hung up. Man, he loved that nickname.

         Ten minutes later, the Parisian duo found themselves atop their city’s most treasured landmark. “Talk to me,” Ladybug began. “How’d you get that info?”

         “I have my sources,” Chat suavely dodged. “Alas, I’m afraid revealing the exact nature of my contacts could have the apawling consequence of revealing my identity, so I’ll have to pass,” he teased. “But I can tell you that the info’s good, cat’s honor,” Chat assured.

         “I don’t doubt you, I’m just curious,” Ladybug persisted.

         “Well if you’re that curious what this cat gets up to in some of his other lives, I suppose I could tell you,” Chat Noir yielded, playing with the idea. “Maybe you’ll understand if I say that it helps to have a friend in Paris’s most akumatized class to keep an eye on things.”

         “That makes sense,” Ladybug quickly agreed, her face quickly turning to the color of her suit. “That’s very smart of you Chat,” she complimented, desperate to change the subject. Marinette wasn’t sure she could even fathom the idea of one of her classmates working with her partner; whoever it was had done an awfully good job keeping their arrangement quiet.

         “While your kind words are mewsic to my ears, I’ve got more to tell,” Chat Noir continued. “My source places one Juleka Couffaine as the last person to likely interact with Lila Rossi, another student who disappeared,” the black-clad hero informed.

         Ladybug frowned. “Are you sure?” she asked.

         “Unfortunately, I think so,” Chat confirmed.

         “Why, unfortunately?” Ladybug asked, almost accusingly.

         “My source tells me that she’s a well-liked person,” Chat responded. “Why do you ask?” the black cat countered.

         “It just seemed like you knew her for a second,” the spotted superheroine sheepishly admitted. “I wondered if there was something you weren’t telling me.”

         Chat grinned. “My Lady, there are many things I don’t tell you, just as there are many things I imagine you don’t tell me. Despite that, I still take comfort in the fact that I can tell you that you’re the best partner I could have asked for,” Chat intimated.

         “Chat…” Ladybug quietly rebuffed, a blush spreading across her face. “That’s not fair.”

         The cat’s expression morphed into a more serious one. “Alas, My Lady, I’m afraid all’s fair in love and war,” he justified. “Marry me?” the cat asked, pulling of an incredible pair of puppy-dog eyes.

         The girl laughed. “In your dreams, kitty,” she declined. “Though I have to hand it to you, you always know how to lighten the mood.”

         “And who’s to say you’re not the one being unfair,” Chat questioned, adopting a tone of hyperbolized injury. “I was legitimately asking you if you would have me around for all of my nine lives.”

         “All’s fair in love and war, kitty,” the red heroine smugly countered, with a tap of her index finger to his nose. “We can talk more tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye on Juleka though,” Ladybug promised as she swung off into the Parisian sky.

         Chat stared for a while at her retreating form. “I really do love you, though,” he said in a quiet voice, a confession only heard by its owner. He sighed, it’s not like this was the first time, all there was to do was keep fighting the good fight. As Chat vaulted back to his house, he realized that Ladybug was, in fact, a teenage girl, a realization which redoubled his motivation to stop whoever was behind the disappearances. Tomorrow would be a big day.


	15. Warped

         Juleka felt alive when she watched Chloé vanish at her touch and reappear moments later on her phone screen in the digital world that Hawkmoth had created. She felt proud during her subsequent conversation with Adrien, like she’d vastly improved the quality of his day. However, the magnitude of those emotions was minor compared to the cathartic release she felt upon banishing Lila into the ever-expanding world of her phone. Juleka felt that she had a right to feel proud; she had just saved her brother from a huge mistake, after all.

         On her way home, she stared at the group of girls in her phone. Honestly, some of the ones she’d banished didn’t seem to be that bad, “Perhaps I’ll release them later,” the akumatized girl thought to herself. No sooner than that thought had crossed her mind, a more sinister one appeared: “What if I could use this power to catch Ladybug?” The upsides were fairly obvious. Even the most powerful akumas tripped up against the combined strength of both of Paris’s protectors. Removing one from the equation would greatly improve her chances of keeping her promise to Hawkmoth. That was what she wanted, right?

         Juleka had decided. She would go on a disappearing spree the next night and trap Ladybug. That could wait until tomorrow though, the girl reasoned. Today, she would celebrate her victory over Lila by spending time with the best big brother in the world.

         Marinette was nonplussed. After her discussion with Chat last night, she had been keeping an eye on Juleka at school. Surprisingly, she seemed perfectly normal. They’d even had a perfectly nice conversation about some of Marinette’s designs! Aside from Chat’s ‘source,’ there was no reason Marinette could think of to identify the girl as an akuma. Last night, Tikki had confirmed that she felt the presence of an akuma in Paris, so there definitely was one. However, Marinette was unconvinced that it could be the relatively shy, nice girl known as Juleka.

         “Girl, what’s on your mind?” Alya questioned, breaking Marinette’s train of thought.

         “Um, nothing! Absolutely nothing!” the blue-haired girl responded a little too quickly.

         “Spill,” the reporter commanded with a smirk. “We’re friends, we can talk about anything,” the girl cajoled.

         “It’s just… I can’t get my mind off those disappearing girls,” Marinette admitted. “It’s just weird seeing three people gone from our own class…” the troubled girl trailed off. “Do Ladybug and Chat Noir have a plan?” Marinette asked, subtly steering the conversation away from her thoughts.

         “Tough to say,” the reporter answered thoughtfully. “One of my sources gave me a picture that suggested they met last night on the Eiffel tower. But I haven’t seen anything myself. Sorry I can’t be more helpful,” Alya finished, now lost in her own plans to levy a big scoop for the Ladyblog.

         Marinette smiled. It was mice that Alya had something to occupy herself with. An idea struck her. Marinette whipped out her phone and sent a text message.

        

         _Sender_ \- Do you think we could use a fox to set a trap for our latest problem?

 

         It was a fairly good plan, the girl thought to herself. Have Rena Rouge create an illusion and swoop down on the akuma when they least expected it. Simple, right? Marinette spent the rest of the school day in a considerably better mood, though she did wonder why he hadn’t responded to her text.

         In a building in another part of Paris, the Guardian winced as he read the message on his phone. On the one hand, it was a perfectly reasonable request. On the other hand, arranging for Rena Rouge to make an appearance would be somewhat complicated.

         “Is something troubling you?” a green kwami asked. The expression on his holder’s face spoke of considerable consternation.

         “See for yourself,” Fu responded with a defeated smile as he held out the phone to the kwami.

         “Quite unfortunate,” the kwami agreed. “Kagami managed to get approval from her parents to leave tomorrow. I suppose we should be glad that Trixx is still in Paris,” Wayzz mused.

         “The way I see it, we have three options,” the Guardian began. “First, we could decline Ladybug’s request. That option has the advantage of being the most simple of the three, but has the drawback of Ladybug likely finding out that the miraculous of illusion is not in my possession; it’s also not a very helpful choice. Alternatively, we could have Kagami act as a substitute for the usual Rena Rouge. This option is somewhat more challenging to pull off than the first, but it’s also more helpful. That plan does, however, comes with the complication of revealing to Paris that there are two different people acting as Rena Rouge should there be any media coverage,” the guardian continued as he pulled out his phone. “The third option is for me to ask Kagami to deliver her miraculous so that I can accommodate Marinette’s plan and return it tomorrow, which is what I think I will do,” Fu concluded.

         “Yes, I think that would work out the best in the long run,” Wayzz agreed. The green kwami laughed. “We’ll have to hope another akuma like this doesn’t happen over the weekend.”

         “Yes, that would be very unfortunate,” the Guardian agreed as he began to type his first message. “I’m sure we will be able to think of alternatives if that should happen though,” he assured as he began to type on his phone.

         Chat Noir was in a contemplative mood. Specifically, he was thinking about _that_ akuma. He was ninety-nine percent sure that Juleka was an akuma. Plagg’s statement yesterday had all but confirmed it! And yet… “Why is she acting so nice?” he thought to himself. “Why are there no grandiose demands, chaotic actions, or seemingly limitless ambition?” he further probed as his tail twitched in agitation. He was pawing at the mental conundrum the same way a normal cat might paw at a ball of yarn. If he kept batting at it by asking questions and finding answers, Chat figured he’d be a step closer to the truth, and perhaps find out something important about his foe.

         So it was that Chat Noir spent an hour thinking on a rather nice roof after dinner. His contemplative reflection only interrupted by the ringing of the transceiver in his baton. Chat smiled, “Maybe she figured something out,” he thought hopefully.

         “Hello, My Lady! It’s pawsitively wonderful to hear from you,” the black-clad superhero greeted.

A sigh could be heard from the other end. “It’s nice to hear your voice as well, Chat. Rena Rouge and I are monitoring the suspected akuma victim’s house from a nearby building. We were hoping to set up a trap and wondered if you could join us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Chat replied eagerly. “Let’s see… Juleka’s house, right? I should be able to be there in five,” he estimated. “I’ll call you when I get there,” he promised as he ended the call. “The akuma will never see it coming!” Chat thought to himself before stylishly jumping off of the roof for an audience of none. Compared to other akumas this plan would make it almost too easy.

Once the three heroes gathered on a rooftop with a good view of Juleka’s house, they discussed their plan for defeating the akuma.

         “Okay,” Ladybug began. “Essentially, Rena, I want you to create an illusion that looks like a teenage girl and have her go around the block a few times. With luck, we’ll be able to observe the method the akuma is using to make these girls disappear and we might even be able to find the akumatized object,” the spotted heroine explained.

         “Sounds like a plan,” Chat affirmed with a nod of the head as his tail flicked in approval.

         “If we’re ready, I can get started,” Rena Rouge offered.

         “There’s no time like the present, I suppose,” acquiesced Ladybug as she adopted a look of fierce concentration. “Rena, let’s get started.”

         From her room, Juleka saw a girl whose beauty was… quite literally impossible to ignore. If the girl hadn’t walked around the corner of her house, Juleka would have still been staring at her.

         “A girl like that…” Juleka began to think as a seed of despair took root in her stomach. “Cannot possibly be allowed anywhere near my brother!” she resolved as she threw on a jacket. This would be quick.

         “Rena… You’ve outdone yourself,” Chat complimented. “That’s basically a neon sign for our akuma,” he said, grinning.

         “And now we wait,” Ladybug said, never taking her eyes off of the illusory target. If she had, even for a minute, she might not have seen Juleka call out to the girl, walk up to her, and attempt to grab her wrist before the illusion began to dissipate, not a minute after Ladybug’s last sentence.

         Juleka was frantic. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She stood still for about ten seconds, just staring at the hand that had reached out to touch the girl, before she cast her confusion aside and turned around to return to her house. However, when Juleka turned around, she came face to face with three of Paris’s superheroes. She was outnumbered, and to make things worse, one of her potential opponents was not female.

         “Can I help you?” Juleka asked nervously, failing to hide her surprise.

         “Purrhaps,” Chat replied, before crossing his arms. “However, I couldn’t help but observe that you seem quite nervous about something. It’s only fair that we as superheroes offer to help you first,” he reasoned. “So, what’s got your tail in a twist?” he asked with an unflinching gaze.

         Juleka took a step back, and then another, before breaking into a sprint that was beyond her normal capabilities. If she lost to those three, then girls like Lila Rossi would once again be free to try and prey on her brother, and that was an outcome that Juleka sought to avoid at all costs. She pressed a button on her phone. Hopefully, help would arrive soon.

         Juleka’s escape came to an abrupt halt when the string of a red and black yoyo coiled itself around her leg. The akumatized girl panicked as she saw the three heroes closing in. At this rate, she would only have one chance to save her brother.

         “Ladybug, I think it’s her phone!” Juleka heard a female voice yell to her left.

         “Say no more! Cataclysm!” a voice came from her right.

         Dead center, between the two, was Ladybug. Juleka’s emotions rose to a fever pitch, she felt like she had been backed into an unforgiving corner. That is, until she reacquainted herself with the fact that Ladybug was a girl. Juleka painted a smile on her face. It was calm, complacent almost. With it, she gazed into Ladybug’s eyes; the other girl was clearly confused, and in that moment of confusion, Juleka pulled on the yoyo wire as her smile morphed into a predatory grin.

         Ladybug was caught off-guard and off-balance as she tumbled towards the akuma. Chat rushed to her side to break her fall but ultimately failed due to his inability to use the hand that carried his cataclysm. Rena Rouge, herself, watched in a state of confusion that morphed into horror as she saw, in slow motion, Ladybug tumble into the waiting embrace of the akuma, and promptly disappear.

         Ladybug’s last sight was of an eerie light pulsating from Juleka’s phone.


	16. A Digital Duel

Ladybug dazedly opened her eyes, seeing only the vague outline of a white room with splotches of human-sized color dispersed throughout. The last thing she remembered was-

         “Ladybug!” a feminine voice shrieked with glee. “What took you so long? Are you here to save us?” the voice rapidly questioned.

         Ladybug’s vision came into focus. Her entire body felt weird. Almost like…

         “I’m inside Juleka’s phone!” she realized aloud as her memories of the fight came back to her.

         “Well, obviously!” the voice continued, seemingly frustrated at Red’s slowness in making that observation. “Some of us have been in here for days now!” it exclaimed impatiently, as its owner crossed her arms.

         “Chloé, there’s no need to get upset like that,” Ladybug admonished in an exasperated tone, it was no surprise that she of all people would be here given Juleka’s MO and Chloé’s… people skills. “To answer your question, Chloé, I was separated from Chat Noir during our surprise attack on the akuma. She caught me off-guard and I was captured,” Red explained to a sea of questioning eyes that she had just noticed. “Of course,” she thought as she mentally facepalmed. “There are other girls here too. I really shouldn’t be surprised.”

         “Well I believe I speak for all of us when I say that it’s good to see you here,” Chloé said while gesturing to the crowd of girls behind her. “That being said, do you have a plan for getting us out?” she queried.

         “Honestly, no,” Ladybug admitted. “The original plan was to purify the akuma and release everyone that way. I hardly planned on being trapped in here myself.”

         Chloé smirked. “Is that so, Ladybug? Fortunately for you, I’ve already discovered a way out. Well, out of this building at least, You can thank me later,” she announced with a satisfied grin.

         “It’s not that simple,” another voice spoke from the crowd. There were murmurs as one of the girls began to make her way through the crowd, towards the heroine.

         “The exit that Chloé is referring to is guarded,” the voice continued as its owner breached the front of the crowd. “However, with you being well, you, I think we have a chance,” the voice concluded as Alix stood facing Ladybug with a hopeful smile.

         Ladybug contemplated the situation. Currently, she was effectively Juleka’s prisoner, and by extension, Hawkmoth’s, and since Rena Rouge had already used an illusion, she had a limited amount of time until she had to retreat. If she couldn’t change those facts in the very near future, Hawkmoth and that other supervillain, Mayura, could try to team up with their akuma, corner Chat Noir and defeat him, that would be the worst-case scenario.

         “If there’s an exit,” Ladybug began, having collected her thoughts. “We have to get there immediately. I’ll deal with any problems on the way,” she stated with a fiery resolve.

         “Careful, your confidence is showing,” Alix chuckled as she walked toward Ladybug and casually patted her shoulder. “If you want to go to the exit, I can get you there,” the strawberry-haired girl declared. “You coming, Chloé?”

         “As if I’d let someone else take the responsibility of guiding Ladybug!” Chloé assented. “I am Queen Bee after all. I could never leave Ladybug alone at a time like this! Let’s go already!” she proclaimed as she dashed ahead of Alix.

          After Ladybug gave some assurances to the crowd of girls gathered in the room, she ran after her guides, out of the white room and into a thin, purple hallway.

         “The guards are in the room beyond that door,” Strawberry said. “Be careful… they nearly killed the last person who went in there,” the athlete cautioned with a somber expression. “Chloé was actually the one who got that girl out alive.”

         “Did you say killed!?” Red worriedly questioned, temporarily passing over Chloé’s heroics. She would address those at a later time. Akumas rarely tried to kill people. Clearly, something more was going on.

         “They seem to be… advanced software programs,” Chloé offered. “Ladybug, please be careful, this place is… different. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

         “I’ll be careful, thanks Queen Bee,” Ladybug assured, using the girl’s superhero alias to convey that she was, indeed, taking Chloé’s warning seriously. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” Ladybug began as she started her solitary march towards the door at the end of the hall. “I have a fight to win,” she finished as she opened the purple door.

         There were purple stairs on the other side of the door. She climbed them. There was another door atop the stairs. She opened it. The room on the other side was bathed in a soft lilac, different from the metallic purple hue of the other rooms. It had a set of stairs that led up to a large elevated platform. There was a matching set of stairs on the platform’s other side. Underneath the platform was… nothing. Ladybug stared down at the nothingness below the platform. In reality, there was no such thing as a bottomless pit. Here, in this phone, she wasn’t so sure that it was safe to rule out that possibility. Ladybug walked up the stairs to the platform.

         As soon as she cleared the top step. She was forced to shield her eyes as two bursts of electricity struck the platform. When she opened them, she found two doctors standing opposite her.

         “Welcome to the app terminal!” one doctor warmly greeted. “My name is Wallace. Might I ask for your Electro-ID?”

         “Electro-ID?” Ladybug repeated confusedly. “What’s this guy talking about?” she internally questioned.

         “Wallace, that’s obviously a foreign program,” the other doctor interjected. “Of course, it isn’t going to have an Electro-ID!” he exclaimed, clearly exasperated with his companion. “Now, let’s see a DNS pass, or else we’re going to have a problem,” the other doctor demanded, adopting a more serious expression than that of his companion.

         From the doctors’ conversation, Ladybug was able to confirm Chloé’s earlier warning that these doctors were some sort of programs. But were they also the guards that she was supposed to defeat? In any case, she didn’t have whatever DNS pass they were looking for.

         “No presented DNS value,” the first doctor said after staring at Ladybug for a few seconds. “Oh my, I’m afraid we can’t have that,” he concluded, a somber expression emerging on his face.

         “Ya think?!” the other doctor replied, as if this conclusion could have been reached eons ago. “Listen up, ya piece of malware! My name’s Pyro and this lug over here is Wallace,” the second doctor said before stopping the introduction to pull a flamethrower out of midair. “And it’s our job to make sure viruses like you wish you never existed!” Pyro concluded with a flourish as he pointed the flamethrower towards Ladybug.

         “Yes, well said,” Wallace agreed as he adjusted his glasses and donned a surgical mask. “I’m afraid we can’t quite let you roam free,” he began, genuinely sad that his duty required him to obliterate a seemingly nonviolent person. “But I swear, upon the great name of Ada Lovelace, that your death will make this phone a safer place. Pyro, let us begin,” Wallace commanded as he positioned himself behind his partner.

         “I thought you’d never ask,” Pyro responded with a manic grin. “Now, burn!”

         The two-word command directed at Ladybug was followed by a fountain of orange that rippled from the flamethrower. Red dodged the burst and watched in terror as the part of the platform where she had been standing melted away, as if it was phasing out of existence.

         “Ya like that, malware?!” Pyro taunted. “My fire tears away at an object’s code until there’s nothing left! Course, native objects like that piece of floor come back over time, but don’t think you’ll be so lucky!” he warned as he shot another stream of digitized fire towards Ladybug.

         She attempted to sprint away, but tripped over an elevated section of floor that had seemingly risen up out of nowhere. She lost one of her twin tails to the flames.

         “If Pyro’s job is to eradicate viruses, mine can be described as limiting their movements with barriers,” Wallace charmingly explained. “If you surrender now, I can promise you a speedy death,” he offered with an air of generosity that clashed sharply with the meaning behind his words.

         “I’ll have to pass,” Ladybug said with a grimace as she felt her singed hair. “but know that I extend the same offer,” she countered, getting back on her feet.

         “Heh, you’ve got guts for a virus,” Pyro complimented. “Any last words before I scatter your code to the four corners of the dark web?” the doctor taunted as he once again leveled his weapon at Ladybug.

         “Just two: Luck Charm!” Ladybug cried as she launched her yoyo into the air and caught a speckled red pie that was decorated with the symbol pi in her hands. She quickly looked at it and then to Pyro, who flashed the same color as her pie in her vision for a moment. Ladybug grinned, she wasn’t through yet.

         Red threw the pie at Pyro, before he had any time to react and watched as it burst on his face.

         “Pyro!” Wallace cried. “So, the virus show’s her true colors,” he mused angrily. “Take it out! Don’t hold back!” he commanded.

         “Pyro stood still for a moment and then began to speak. “3.14159265358979323846 264338327950288419716939937510…”

         “You’re a pi virus!” Wallace cried in pure horror as he fixed his shocked gaze on Ladybug. “I’m sorry, but you’ve gone too far,” he shouted angrily.

         Ladybug braced herself for an attack from the doctor but Wallace stood still, unmoving until he raised his hand into the air and slammed it down in midair. Suddenly, Ladybug was crushed to the ground by a wall of purple bricks.

         “I am the wall that protects this device…” Wallace began as he lowered his hand further, the bricks pressing harder into Ladybug’s back. “…the last line of defense for all the source code that takes refuge here,” he continued as his arm descended further, as the bricks continuing their push. The platform began to groan from the stress they were exerting as Ladybug cried out in pure anguish. “Viruses like yourself are unwelcome here. Now, be gone!” he commanded as the purple wall tried to further decrease the distance between itself and the platform. Red’s vision grew blurry as she watched the doctor turn around, towards his compatriot, ignoring her as if her demise was a foregone conclusion.

         “No, it can’t end here,” she thought, as she desperately tried to push against the crushing force to no avail. The bricks continued to push. “Tikki, Chat, I’m so sorry,” Marinette thought as her consciousness began to fade “I hope the next partner both of you get doesn’t end up failing you like I did,” she lamented as her body started to yield to the bricks’ pressing force. “I tried my best, really… I’m sorry,” she thought to herself as the world went black around her.

         If Ladybug had remained conscious any longer, she would have witnessed Chloe and Alix tackle Wallace, who was still facing Pyro and push him into the abyss of nothingness. She would have seen the wall that had been crushing her evaporate into smaller and smaller blocks of code before fading entirely.

         But, as things were, Ladybug wasn’t around to see either of those things. A pink light that washed over her body left Marinette lying unconscious on the platform in Ladybug's place, with her hair still singed. She was alive but too injured to move. Tikki was livid.


	17. Cat and Moth

         “Rena, you need to go,” Chat sternly commanded, never taking his eyes off of Juleka. He had just witnessed his partner, Ladybug of all people, seemingly be captured by an akuma, and he wasn’t about to be responsible for another hero’s disappearance.

         “I… right,” Rena complied as she turned to retreat. She was still in shock from witnessing one of Paris’s saviors disappear right before her eyes, but she still recognized that she didn’t have much time left until her transformation wore off, Chat would have to handle this battle on his own for now. Well, at least until she could reenergize her kwami.

         Juleka’s expression transitioned into a relaxed smirk as she faced the Cat-themed hero opposite her. While her main power didn’t work on him, she knew that all she had to do was prevent him from using his cataclysm on her phone until reinforcements arrived.

         “And then there was one. Didn’t anyone ever warn you that curiosity killed the cat, or his partner in this case?” Juleka taunted, relishing in the growing anger in Chat Noir’s eyes. Hawkmoth had previously told her that after the superheroes activate their abilities, they have about five minutes until their transformation wears off. If that piece of information was true, Chat Noir’s cataclysm would do him more harm than good, Juleka thought.

         “I guess it’s a good thing that cats come with more than one life then,” Chat drily responded as he reached for his baton with his non-charged hand. “However, I’m afraid phones like yours, on the other hand, are quite famous for dying,” Chat threatened as he closed the distance between himself and Juleka with a shockingly fast leap, cataclysm outstretched.

         Even with her newfound preternatural reflexes, Juleka barely managed to evade the cat’s pounce as his claw came within centimeters of her exposed phone. It was quite apparent that she couldn’t relax just yet. Before she could scale a building or take any other avenue of escape, she saw Chat Noir’s momentum shift as he used his baton to launch himself towards her through the air with an unerring focus. He was moving too quickly to be avoided, so Juleka defended herself the only way she knew how. She stuck out her arm in front of her.

         Chat Noir internally groaned as he reoriented himself in midair to deliver a kick to Juleka’s outstretched arm. He obviously wasn’t going to unleash a cataclysm on the physical body of an akuma victim, that could irreparably damage the victim! However, it took a lot of nerve for her to prey on that mercy.

         Juleka was knocked to the ground by the hero’s kick. Her phone flew out of her hand and bounced against the gravel of the road until it stopped a fair distance from the grappling combatants.

         “I’m afraid that this game of cat and mouse must come to an end,” Chat taunted, having regained his good humor. He ran towards the phone and picked it up with his right hand. He began to move his left hand, pulsing with the dark energy of his cataclysm, towards it. Things could never be that easy.

         His victory was halted by a feather. A short time ago, when Juleka had sent out a distress signal, a miraculous user released a single dark feather. It was an opaque body that flew through the Parisian night, sometimes speedily and sometimes lazily. It flew until it found itself above Juleka and Chat Noir, and then it fell from the air. Before Chat Noir could destroy the akumatized object in his grasp and free its prisoners, the feather landed.

         The feather wrapped itself around the phone in an attempt to alter it into something more monstrous, its dark aura slowly seeping into the phone. However, before it could even properly begin the transformation, the feather was cut down. Killed in its prime by Chat Noir. Juleka’s phone, however, still bearing the sigil of the butterfly miraculous, was unscathed.

         “Well, that was disappointing,” a woman’s voice dispassionately commented from a distance behind Chat Noir, setting him on edge.

         “You think so?” A man’s voice responded, clearly in good humor. “Then perhaps we should teach this cat to keep his claws where they belong,” the voice continued.

         Chat turned around.

         “Yes, let’s do that,” the woman said with an eager smile that sent shivers down Chat Noir’s spine. It appeared that the akuma had received reinforcements.

         “So, Chat Noir, would you like to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Hawkmoth questioned with a victorious smile as he and Mayura slowly approached the hero. “If you surrender your miraculous now, I can promise that no further harm will come to you,” the supervillain offered.

         “As nice as that sounds, I’m afraid I’ll have to take a rain check,” Chat countered as he took slow steps away from the villainous duo and searched for an avenue of retreat. He had already used his cataclysm and wasn’t eager to fight a two-on-one battle, especially one with a time limit.

         “A rain check you say?” Hawkmoth questioned as he continued his almost leisurely advance. “Chat Noir, I’m afraid that won’t do. I hate to rain on your parade, but I have a strict no-rain-checks allowed policy unless a weather-related akuma is involved,” Hawkmoth explained, now obviously relishing the advantageous situation. “On to other business. Juleka, I believe Chat Noir has something that belongs to you. I think you should get it back from him,” Hawkmoth suggested to the akuma lying on the ground mere steps from Chat Noir.

         “With pleasure!” Juleka responded as she picked herself up from her gravely resting place. “Care to give that back, Mr. Hero?” she taunted, positioning herself to block his backward retreat.

         “Sorry, but I don’t think kidnapping is included in your cell-phone plan. I’m going to have to confiscate this item for improper use,” Chat Noir countered, tightening his grip on the phone that just wouldn’t seem to break no matter how hard he squeezed it.

         “That’s quite a shame,” Hawkmoth responded as he and Mayura closed the distance between themselves and the cat-themed hero to about 10 feet. “Then again, I’ve always considered bargaining to be one of my greater gifts. Ladies, let’s see if we can’t convince our hero friend to see things our way,” Hawkmoth continued. As soon as the words left his mouth, Mayura leapt at Chat Noir, battle fan in hand, the surprise alone nearly stealing one of Chat’s nine lives.

         Chat blocked Mayura’s strike with his staff, only to be met with a punch to the back that hurt a lot more than it should have. He was sent reeling forwards and barely reacted in time to dodge Hawkmoth’s attempt to bludgeon him over the head with his cane. Now on the ground, Chat was forced to roll and scamper in order to dodge a relentless assault from the two supervillains, while Juleka ran ahead to cut off his perspective avenue of retreat.

         After nearly half-a-minute of dodging, and a dreaded beep of his ring, Chat managed to use his staff to propel himself over Juleka and get back on his feet.

         “Me-owch! You guys really know how to keep a hero on his feet,” Chat Noir admitted as he gained his bearings and stared down his opponents. “I should warn you though, cats aren’t very friendly when you try to back them into a corner,” Chat warned as he adopted a battle stance with his staff, after finally pocketing Juleka’s phone. His ring beeped

         “Is that so,” Hawkmoth questioned, clearly amused. “While I’d love to see Chat Noir’s magnificent last stand, I don’t think you’ll be ‘Chat Noir’ for much longer if that beeping is any indicator,” Hawkmoth coolly analyzed.

         “Only one way to find out,” Chat taunted, shifting forwards into a lunging stance. He then proceeded to defy the expectations of the villainous trio by vaulting to the nearest rooftop and fleeing like his life depended on it.

         “Get him!” Hawkmoth ordered. The three villains began their rooftop pursuit of Chat Noir. Another beep could be heard from his ring.

         If Chat was being honest, things were looking fairly bad right then. His ring had only two more sections of his paw print left and Ladybug wasn’t around for an assist. Though, if the ringing in his staff was any indicator, someone else might be available.

         “Hey, I’m kind of on the run right now. What’s up?” Chat spoke into his staff.

         “Very funny, Chat,” Rena Rouge replied from the other end. “I’m sending you my location. Meet me there and I can give you enough time to recharge.”

         “Roger that, Foxy Lady!” Chat agreed before ending the call, a Cheshire grin plastered on his face. The villains would never know what hit them.

         A minute later into the chase, Hawkmoth began to feel uneasy. In theory, Chat Noir was on his last legs but the hero’s disposition would lead one to believe that he had the upper hand, almost as if he-

         “Mind if I drop in?” A voice interrupted Hawkmoth’s train of thought, as Rena Rouge landed between the villainous trio and Chat Noir. “You know, if you keep hounding Chat like that, we might have to add animal abuse to your ever-growing list of crimes.”

         “Fair enough,” the super-villain admitted as Chat retreated into the distance. “However, I must warn you that fox season is wide-open.” Hawkmoth snapped his fingers. “Mayura, Juleka, please entertain this misbehaving fox,” Hawkmoth commanded as he suddenly moved past Rena Rouge.

         “Well, I suppose I’ll have to content myself with relieving you of your miraculous, Mayura,” I’ll make Hawkmoth regret passing up the chance to battle one of Paris’s most awesome heroes.

         “Overconfident much?” Mayura replied. She actually found the young heroine’s spunk to be quite amusing. However, from where she stood, the odds seemed to be against her opponent. “Juleka, how about we show little Ms. Hero why it’s a bad idea to get in our way?” Mayura asked, raising her fan towards her adversary.

         “Yes,” Juleka dazedly replied. “That girl is dangerous, she might go after my brother…” Juleka contemplated aloud as she took up a fighting stance.

         “So that’s what this is about,” Rena Rouge muttered to herself. “I’m sorry but I’ll have to defeat you now,” Rena Rouge resolved. The battle began.

         A mere four streets away, Adrien Agreste was tucked away in a dim alley, watching Plagg eat camembert at an Olympic pace.

         “Ya ready to go kid?” the black kwami asked after he finished his meal.

         “I think so,” Adrien replied. “It’s a shame we don’t have the time to burn a cataclysm on destroying this phone though,” he sadly appraised.

         “Heh, I’d do it myself if I didn’t think it would accidentally destroy all Parisian cell-towers in a hundred-mile radius,” Plagg replied, boasting of his abilities.

         “There’s no way that could happen… right?” Adrien nervously inquired.

         “That’s exactly what I thought to myself when I got rid of my least favorite water fountain in Atlantis… Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty,” Plagg cautioned, nodding his head during his explanation.

         “I’ll take your word for it,” Adrien accepted. “Plagg, claws out!” the teen yelled as he was enveloped in a green light. Chat Noir was back.

         “There you are!” a voice declared from above, startling the superhero. “It’s considered rude to keep your guests waiting,” it admonished, further unsettling Chat. He looked up and saw Hawkmoth on the roof above.

         “The flash of green light and the catchphrase aren’t exactly subtle, you know,” Hawkmoth admonished as Chat Noir made his way onto the roof.

         “You can’t be subtle if you ever want to make it to the catwalk,” Chat punned almost instinctively.

         “I’m sorry, what?!” Hawkmoth asked, somewhat perturbed by the hero’s previous comment.

         Chat Noir frowned. “It’s a cat pun,” he explained. “I do those. You can’t honestly tell me that you haven’t noticed,” he said exasperatedly.

         “Yes, of course,” Hawkmoth recovered. “Now shall we skip to the part where you give me your miraculous?” He taunted by way of asking.

         “I believe that’s my line,” Chat Noir countered as he raised his staff towards Hawkmoth. And so, the battle began.

         Fighting one-on-one, Chat Noir and Hawkmoth each managed to fend their opponent off.  Chat’s battle experience was matched by Hawkmoth’s greater size, and the villain’s cunning ploys were subverted by Chat Noir’s keen instincts. In a feat of endurance on both sides, the two managed to battle for nearly a half hour before Hawkmoth received a message.

         “Hawkmoth, I’ve observed police officials in the vicinity of our battle with Rena Rouge,” Mayura informed. “We’ve almost defeated the fox but could encounter resistance soon. What should we do?” she asked.

         Hawkmoth grimaced, he could almost taste the prospect of having another miraculous under his control and yet, it would all be for naught if he or Mayura were somehow captured.

         “Retreat for now,” Hawkmoth instructed. “We will use today’s failure as the means for a future success,” he resolved.

         “Chat Noir, it seems that I must bid you adieu,” Hawkmoth reluctantly stated. “It seems that you’ve won this round.” The villain conceded as he retreated into the night.

         Chat would have loved to chase after him. He really would have loved to back that villain into a corner and end the wakeless nightmare that Hawkmoth had created for the citizens of Paris. However, Chat also knew that Hawkmoth was likely meeting up with Mayura, meaning it would be hard, if not impossible, to defeat him; also, he needed to check on Rena Rouge.

         With that resolve in mind, Chat Noir made his way to the roof where he last saw his fellow hero and found her propped up against the door to a roof exit.

         “Rena, are you okay?!” Chat worriedly inquired as he walked over to the heroine.

         “Hey, Chat,” she weakly responded. “I’m pretty sure that my leg is broken, or at the very least badly sprained. I think my miraculous is the only thing making the pain remotely bearable,” she explained. “What I wouldn’t give for a miraculous cure right about now,” Rena Rouge lamented longingly.

         “Oh yeah, that reminds me,” Chat Noir responded as he pulled Juleka’s phone out of his suit. “It’s about time we get Ladybug back,” he resolved as he promptly used his cataclysm on it.


	18. The Gamer and the Bug

“I.. really don’t know what to say right now,” Chloé began. Before her eyes, she had seen Ladybug, the heroine who she admired with a great passion, de-transform into… Marinette. That wouldn’t be a problem if she and Marinette were on good terms; however, as things currently stood, Chloé and Marinette could be called non-enemies at best.

         “Honestly, neither do I,” Alix admitted, adopting a serious disposition that was unusual for the girl. “I guess tech-based akumas can be pretty OP,” she observed aloud. If Alix was honest with herself, she was actively trying not to freak out. Not over the fact that Marinette was Ladybug, she would deal with that overwhelming load of information later, she was trying to keep calm under the realization that Ladybug, their best chance at escaping this phone prison, was, quite definitively, out for the count. Someone else, on the other hand, was doing notably less well at holding their act together.

         “Marinette! Wake up!” a tiny voice frantically cried as a small red being zoomed around the unconscious body. She landed on her chosen’s head and waited, her presence still. Chloé and Alix stared at the creature in silence, Chloé’s eyes held wide open by mythic awe while Alix’s gazed in compassion for the creature’s evident distress. The red being picked itself up from its perch, wearing an expression that was a mixture of relief and resignation. Then, she spoke once more.

         “I-I think our current situation warrants me s-skipping a few formalities,” the small distraught being began. “I-I am Tikki, t-the kwami of creation and the one who b-bestows the form of L-Ladybug onto my chosen hero” the red kwami pushed out through barely visible tears. “I-I ask you, w-will you help me r-restore the order of this world and p-purify Hawkmoth’s akuma?” Tikki asked, striking a rather heart-wrenching balance of sounding both serious and emotionally overwhelmed.

         “Of course!” Chloé gracefully responded. “Even without my kwami, I’m still a hero, you know,” she informed, as if that fact might be called into question.

         “Yeah, I’m down,” Alix affirmed. “But, uh, are you okay? You seem to be taking this pretty hard,” Alix asked, concerned.

         Tikki raised her suddenly tired eyes to meet the worried expression of the strawberry-haired girl. “I’m fine,” she assured without a single iota of convincingness. “I’m just… tired…” the red kwami trailed off, slowly descending in midair.

         Alix caught Tikki in her hands. “Can you still do that thing where you send all those ladybugs to fix everything after you purify the akuma?” the girl asked softly. Tikki nodded in the affirmative. Alix smiled. “Then we’ll get Marinette back on her feet just fine,” she assured.

         “I’m just worried, I guess,” Tikki began. “Those things were unexpectedly strong, even considering the akuma’s influence. Don’t take this the wrong way, but if they defeated Marinette, I can’t help but worry about you two” she explained.

         “Relax!” Chloé exclaimed, completely disregarding the serious air. “All we have to do is find the internet app. After that, we can just get whatever equipment we need off of Google.”

         “Could that really work?” Alix questioned. “Then again, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing that happened today,” she rationalized. “I guess it’s a better plan than nothing.”

         “Hopefully we can find some cookies there,” Tikki added. “The ones in Marinette’s purse were crushed by that wall earlier,” she said with a dejected expression.

         “Then let’s go, already!” Chloé impatiently commanded as she lead the group to the stairs that led down from their current position on the platform. “We’ve got some online shopping to do!”

         “Um, aren’t you forgetting about someone?” Alix interrupted as she pointed at the unconscious girl on the platform. “We can’t just leave her here. Those things might come back,” she explained.

         “Right… I guess we should drop her off with the other girls,” Chloé agreed, after some thought.

After that brief detour, the trio walked out of the purple room with the platform and stepped onto a bed of pavement that looked like a microchip. There, they were greeted by rows upon rows of white cubic buildings, each with banners like [Snapchat] or [Camera] that seemed to indicate what app they represented. When they turned around to look at the building they had just exited, they found that it was unlike the other buildings in that it had no banner. It also had external stairs leading to a second floor, which was clouded in a dark fog.

         “That looks ominous,” Alix commented.

         “Well, I suppose we’ll be going there eventually,” Chloé observed with a sigh that revealed that she was not looking forward to exploring that part of the building.

         The group searched the rows of buildings until they happened upon one that read [Google Chrome]. Then, they walked around the side of the building and found a door that presumably lead further within. On the other side, they saw another purple room that seemed to be the spitting image of the one that they had just left.

         “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Alix commented as she visibly tensed.

         “That makes two of us,” Chloé agreed. “There’s no way we can fight any more of those things if one happens to show up,” she said, clearly frustrated.

         “In any case, it might help us to just walk up there and see what kind of enemies we’ll be facing,” Tikki optimistically commented. “If they turn out to be another set of doctors, we can just run away,” she observed.

         Lacking a better plan of action, the group ascended a set of stairs to the top of the platform, where absolutely nothing happened. No lightning, no doctors, no fire, and if anything, the absence of a threat set everyone even more on edge.

         “L-Let’s just go,” Alix pleaded, her nervousness threatening to spill over.

         “Agreed,” Chloé quickly said, as the two sprinted across the platform, down the stairs on the other side, and through the corresponding door on the platform’s other side.

         After they reached that door without incident, they opened it to find a search bar and a keyboard surrounded by a sea of lights on the other side.

         “I guess that’s our destination,” Alix asserted as she took a step into the rainbow marsh that surrounded the bar.

         As the group made their way towards the search bar, they noticed that their path would occasionally seem to grow shaky, or at other times become like solid pavement as opposed to marshy ground.

         “Do you think this ground represents our connection to the internet?” Chloé asked. “I mean, that could be why it seems so unstable,” she reasoned.

         “Hmm, I don’t know,” Alix replied. “But if it is, we should finish up soon, in case the phone runs into a dead zone. I don’t think I want to see what happens if we lose our connection,” Alix said as the group increased their pace.

         Upon arriving at the search bar and typing in Google.com, the trio noticed the multicolored material that made up the floor morph into an image displaying the Google logo, though it still maintained its unstable property.

         “Well, I guess we’re connected to the website,” Tikki observed. “What kinds of things should we look for, aside from cookies of course?”

         “Ah, I almost forgot!” Alix exclaimed as she quickly typed [cookies] into the search bar. Almost instantaneously, several short pillars jumped up from the ground, each presenting either a cookie, an array of cookies, or some other cookie-related material. Needless to say, Tikki was quite satisfied.

         “Now what kind of weapons should we get to defeat the akuma?” Chloe asked aloud, somewhat overwhelmed by the nearly infinite possibilities before her.

         “Well…” Tikki began between munches. “I can cover one of your options, now that my energy is back,” the red kwami offered.

         “Tempting…” Alix contemplated aloud. “But first, let me see how good this search engine is,” she responded as she typed something else into the keyboard. Again, the pillars rose. Seemingly satisfied, Alix grabbed an item off of one of them and watched the rest disappear.

         “What is _that_?“ Chloe asked, both shocked by the girl’s speed in choosing a weapon and curious as to its nature.

         Alix smiled smugly as she caressed what was now visible to Chloé as a red lance. “Oh, this?” she mock questioned. “It’s just a lance that reverses the law of cause and effect to pierce the heart of its target,” she casually explained, her satisfied expression never leaving her face. “I saw it on TV and thought it might be fun to use,” she continued, trying to suppress her sheer joy under a mask of accomplishment. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well get extremely overpowered weapons. Just say the word, and I’ve got your back Chlo,” Alix generously offered, never mind the fact that she had never, in her life, called Chloé Chlo.

         “Chlo?” the blond girl questioned. “Anyway, that’s hardly an issue since I’m going to be Ladybug!” she proudly declared, moving closer to Tikki.

         “In that case, I’ll just get us some shoes, Alix continued, unperturbed as she once again began to type at the keyboard. “I’ve really got to hand it to you Chlo, getting our supplies online was a great idea!” Alix complimented as more pillars rose from the ground.

         “Sure,” Chloe acknowledged. “But why do we need new shoes?” she asked. “Mine are already amazing,” she added, as if that fact was inherently obvious and Alix was being weird for even remotely implying otherwise.

         “Ah, but do your shoes have +220 agility?” Alix smugly questioned as she tossed a pair towards Chloé. “They’re an RPG model,” she continued. “One size fits all.”

         “I’m not even going to question how that works for shoes,” Chloé dejectedly sighed as she slipped on the less than absolutely glamorous pair of shoes Alix had given her, at least they fit well.

         “That should be good enough for our preparations,” Alix commented as she twirled her lance. “I’m just going to grab a couple of healing elixirs before we leave,” she offhandedly mentioned.

         Chloé laughed. “You’re really enjoying this videogame stuff, aren’t you?” she teasingly asked.

         “Take three steps in those shoes and you’ll be right there with me,” Alix enthusiastically responded. “I’ll race you to the akuma!” she challenged.

         “Sure,” Chloe agreed. “But before that, Tikki how do I turn into Ladybug?” Chloe asked the red kwami.

         “Spots on to transform and spots off to cancel the transformation,” Tikki informed.

         “Sounds good,” Chloé affirmed, trying to suppress her excitement. “Tikki, spots on!”

         In the burst of pink light that came with the transformation, Chloé got a head start in her race with Alix, practically teleporting the distance between the search bar and the room’s door. However, when she got there, she found that Alix had already arrived.

         “How did you-” Chloe began, dumbstruck.

         “+450 agility,” Alix nonchalantly commented, shooting a superior smirk at Chloé. “Shall we be going?” the shorter girl asked.

         Chloé fumed wordlessly as she walked through the door. Her mild anger had abated by the time the two girls reached the purple platform, though. However, the moment the two crossed the middle threshold of the platform, they were greeted with twin bursts of lightning on the platform’s opposite side. When the lightning vanished, the two doctors from earlier reappeared.

         “Alright!” Pyro bellowed, summoning his flamethrower. “We’ve been through this once before, so don’t think-“ he stopped as he felt a sudden pain in his chest. “Grrk!” he exclaimed as he stared in shock at the red lance protruding from his chest. Pyro didn’t even have time to fully process his defeat as his body began to dissolve into particles of code.

         Wallace formed a cube around himself. He had just witnessed a pink-haired virus attack his partner with a javelin throw that had preternatural speed and accuracy, he wasn’t going to be next.

         “Ladybug, why don’t you take this one?” Alix yawned as the lance flew back into her hand. “Being so overpowered just doesn’t make this fight seem fair”.

         Wallace smirked, he had defeated the red virus once before, so doing so again would offer little challenge. “Yes, let’s see what you can do!” he taunted.

         “If you insist” Chloé responded with a knowing smile.

         She encircled Wallace’s cube with her yoyo and signaled Alix. “Alright, do the thing!” she commanded.

         “With pleasure!” Alix exclaimed as she threw the lance once more. An instant later, Wallace’s cube shattered from the force of the lance.

Like his partner, Wallace didn’t really process his defenses being overcome, but he was able to process the feeling of being grabbed by wire as Chloé captured him with her yoyo and flung him into the abyss beneath the platform. “Clearly, we need to invest in better antivirus software,” he thought to himself in freefall as he resignedly dematerialized his body.

“Note to self: if you’re in a ridiculous digital world, use ridiculous digital weapons,” Alix commented aloud as she twirled her new best friend. “Shall we pulverize an akuma, Ladybug?” the strawberry-haired girl asked rhetorically.

“I believe we shall,” Chloe responded with a dignified expression as the two exited the purple room.

Their shoes made getting to the akuma’s room a laughable task, and when they opened the door, they found the akuma alone, seemingly non-threatening.

“So, do I just purify it?” Chloé asked as she walked forwards. “I have to admit, I was expecting a little more resistance,” she commented as the captured the akuma.

“Ditto,” Alix affirmed as she watched the akuma change from a dark purple hue to a deep white. “I’m gonna miss this lance, but it’ll be nice to get back to Paris. Oh! Don’t forget to summon a lucky charm and use miraculous ladybug!” Alix instructed.

“Got it,” Chloé said as she performed the two actions in rapid succession.

The world in front of their eyes began to fade away slowly as a swarm of ladybugs started to engulf their surroundings.

“Huh, I guess it’ll take a while for the phone to get back to normal,” Alix observed. The universe, in a bid to prove her wrong, proceeded to destroy the akumatized phone via Chat Noir’s cataclysm.


	19. Still a Hero

Chat lifted his hand from the broken phone to see a swarm of ladybugs erupt from its cracked surface. He smiled. “I guess she got the job done on her end, too,” he commented aloud.

            “I guess so,” Rena Rouge agreed, flexing her repaired leg.

            “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Chat observed. “I can come with you part of your way home. It would be just like Hawkmoth to try another ambush,” the cat-theme hero darkly reflected.

            “You can actually come with me the whole way,” Rena informed as she walked towards the edge of the building. “I’m actually meeting the Guardian at a café to return well, this,” Rena said as she gestured to her costume.

            “Sounds good,” Chat affirmed. “Let’s get you there safely,” he resolved as he gestured for Rena Rouge to lead the way.

            After being carried out of the phone by some of Ladybug’s ladybugs, Chloé and Alix found themselves in the dark hallways of Collège Françoise Dupont.

            “I guess we were taken back to approximately the place where we disappeared,” Alix observed.

            “I guess so,” Chloé agreed. “Ah! What about Marinette!?” she exclaimed. “If we’re back to the place where we disappeared, she’s likely near Chat Noir, and definitely not transformed. It would reveal her secret identity!” Chloé nervously rambled. “Tikki, spots off,” she commanded as the kwami appeared before her. “Do you know where Marinette is?” Chloé asked worriedly.

            Tikki nodded. “If we hurry we might be able to get there before another hero does.”

            “Good luck, Chlo,” Alix said as she patted the other girl’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure that I can’t keep up, speed-wise, with a superhero, so I’ll leave this one in your capable hands,” Alix continued as she walked down the hallway. “I’m headed home, see you tomorrow!” she said by way of a farewell.

            After Tikki told Chloé where the heroes had set up their ambush, Chloé transformed and sprinted there so quickly, she almost didn’t notice that she didn’t have the digital speed-enhancing shoes anymore.

            When they arrived, they found Marinette sleeping on the street, breathing gently and visibly content. If her identity weren’t at risk of being exposed, it might have been a peaceful scene.

            Chloé rushed over to the sleeping girl. “Marinette! You have to wake up!” Chloé implored as she shook her, rousing her from her slumber.

            “Huh, who are y-” Marinette dazedly began to speak before jolting wide-awake upon noticing that the person addressing her appeared to be Ladybug.

            “A-am I dead?” the blue-haired girl asked, her eyes threatening to burst into tears. “B-because the last thing I remember is-”.

            “Hey, take it easy,” Chloé soothingly interrupted as Marinette began to freely sob. “You’re still alive. I just had to borrow Tikki to get us out of that phone,” Chloé explained.

            “Then you’re… Chloé!? And you know that I’m Ladybug!?” Marinette asked through wide tearing eyes. “You saved everyone?” she questioned so quietly it was almost internal. “… thank you so much,” the tearing Marinette quietly acknowledged, before standing up to hug the girl dressed as Ladybug.

            “Um… you’re welcome?” Chloé said as an acceptance of her thanks. She stood in place, awkwardly patting the blue-haired girl on the back, in what was an attempt at a show of comfort. “Hey, it was a team effort,” Chloé comforted. “If I’m honest, Alix probably played the hero better than I did. It’s a pretty cool story actually if you want to hear it sometime,” Chloé continued, settling into Marinette’s hug.

            “I’d like that,” Marinette softly responded, her tears beginning to dry.

            “Marinette, I want you to know that neither one of us could have escaped that phone without your help, and admitting that is going way out of my comfort zone,” Chloé said with a dry chuckle. “Anyway, I don’t want you to feel like you failed as a hero or anything.”

            “Thanks, Chloé, I probably needed to hear that, even if it might take me a little while to accept it,” Marinette responded, still working through her thoughts.

            “While this has been a nice catch-up and perhaps the start of a new friendship, we need to get you home before Chat gets here,” Chloé resolved, exiting the hug.

            “Right…” Marinette blankly acknowledged, still processing Chloé’s last sentence.

            A few minutes later, Chat Noir took one look at the scene and left. If appearances were any indicator, then Ladybug was just fine. He returned home, a half-hour before his father and Nathalie would arrive by limousine later that night.

            At the same time, Alya Césaire was exiting a Parisian café after having a nice but brief meal with her fairly old Chinese tutor, not that she spoke Chinese, of course.

            Meanwhile, Chloé had escorted Marinette to her balcony, returned her Miraculous, and was now in the process of waking up members of her staff in order to arrange a limousine for her return.

            Gabriel Agreste was already inside a limousine, seated next to his assistant as he contemplated his next plan to take the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous stones. However, during his planning, a rather irritating phone call interrupted his train of thought.

            “Boss, I’m afraid I’ve run into a bit of a snag,” a clearly irritated voice hurriedly shouted from the other end of the phone, trying to overcome the sound of pouring rain.

            “What’s going on?” Gabriel calmly questioned.

            “I got the research data and planted the cleaning virus just fine, but pretty much as soon as I walked out the door for the day, this guy started shooting at me- Woah!” the man shouted. A squeal of tires could be heard by Gabriel.

            “Are you still there?!” Gabriel anxiously questioned. If this man failed to deliver the research data, the inconvenience would be infuriating, especially if the mysterious assailant took it instead.

            “Still alive!” the frustrated man shouted into the phone. “Based on the fact that whoever’s shooting at me is using glowing arrows, I think I’m dealing with a miraculous user,” the man roared as the tires of his car cried in pain from his evasive maneuvers. There was a pause. “Originally, I wasn’t going to give you any of the info until I got paid, but if anything happens to me, I have a flash drive with a copy of the Wunderstein research findings in my hotel room. I’m not letting whoever this person is get the last word if you catch my drift,” the man informed. “Heh, if I get out of this alive, I’m charging you extra,” the man nervously joked.

            Gabriel appraised the situation. To his knowledge, a miraculous user in Germany would have to be affiliated with Wunderstein and frankly, the odds were stacked against his employee. “Thank you for the update, Mars. I hope to see you safe,” Gabriel concluded.

            “You and me both, Hades” the frustrated voice replied before ending the call.

            “Trouble, sir?” his assistant questioned, having heard snippets of the conversation.

            “Likely,” Gabriel confirmed. “I might need you to collect some data in the event that our operative doesn’t return,” he informed.

            “I see,” Nathalie pensively acknowledged as the car drove further into the night.

            Many miles away, on a rainy mountainside road, an archer was toying with a certain motorist on a rainy night.

            “Honestly, trying to steal my research! The shame!” the archer spoke, smiling as he nocked another arrow and aimed at the car. “Although, to his credit, Mr. Corbyn has successfully evaded five of my shots, so far. I think I might have to try a bit harder,” the man said, continuing his monologue. “Future Vision!” he called out. It was his kwami’s special ability; the kwami of insight’s Future Vision generated a prediction of what would happen in the next ten seconds using the knowledge of all intelligent beings. It was a useful tool when figuring out where to aim your next arrow.

            The man smiled as he watched his prey ‘suddenly’ swerve, right into the path of his next shot. The car ran into a guardrail before toppling off the road.

            “Hmm, wasn’t that rather harsh?” a voice questioned from behind the archer.

            “Hardly,” the man coolly replied. “Iris’s prediction indicated broken bones and partial paralysis, temporary might I add, but he’ll live,” the man explained as he compressed his bow into two thin rods.

            “I see, I suppose,” commented the voice, which belonged to a small starfish-like creature. “Shall I regenerate Iris’s power for you,” it asked.

            “That would be helpful,” the man assented. “Thanks, Starz,” he thanked the small kwami as he felt Iris’s power revert to a ready state. “However, if Wunderstein is attracting this kind of unwanted attention, then I might be inclined to move my talents elsewhere,” the man mused.

            “Hmm, are you sure?” Starz questioned as he floated closer to the man. “From what I understand, you’ve worked with the Wunderstein corporation for months researching the miraculous stones,” the kawmi commented.

            “Believe me, I know,” the man said somberly. “Even though I’m personally dissatisfied with the higher-ups’ arrangement to give a stone to the French government in exchange for funding, I’ll be sad to leave some of my friends here,” the man explained. “That being said, Starz, there are some people who would have fired an arrow to kill that man,” the archer somberly commented. “If that kind of person was sent after me or my research at the Wunderstein corporation, then it would be rather bad to stay there,” the man explained as he picked up Starz and began to move.

            “Hmm, a complicated decision,” Starz pondered aloud as they began their trek back to the labs. “Though, I suppose I see your point,” the kwami acknowledged.

            “Yeah, complicated is a good word,” the man agreed. “I’ve actually talked with it about Polly when I first suspected this joker of being an information thief. She gave me a rather appealing deal. Help her find a way to bind the concept of time into a miraculous stone, not even do it mind you, and she’d pull some strings to get me out with my two favorite kwamis, that would be you and Iris, and fifty-thousand euros as a severance package.”

            “That’s quite the deal,” Starz commented. “Is it within your abilities?” he questioned.

            “The concept binding?” the archer rhetorically asked. “Easily. And I trust Polly enough not to mess with time in a bad way.”

            “That’s comforting,” the starfish commented. “I noticed that you said that Iris and I were your two favorite kwamis. I’m curious. Are there others?” Starz inquired.

            “Just one, in stasis though,” the man said, his expression turning somewhat sour. “Honestly, I should have known there would be trouble when they wouldn’t tell me the concept in advance of the actual binding,” he ruefully stated. “If you want I can tell you more, later,” the man stated as he stopped outside the Wunderstein labs. “Right now, I’m feeling kind of tired, though,” he explained.

            “Hmm, I see,” commented Starz. And the night drew to a close.


	20. Behind The Scenes

“Don’t be bemused. It’s just the news! Hi, I’m Nadja Chamack, and this morning we’re bringing you an update on the disappearance cases that have been sweeping Paris,” the newscaster informed as a video appeared on a screen behind her. “Last night, a group of Parisian police officers was able to capture this footage of the hero Rena Rouge confronting the supervillain Mayura and the akumatized person who they would later learn was responsible for the recent disappearances,” Nadja informed as video of the battle continued to play. “We are relieved to note that the disappearance victims all seem to have returned home safely. However, some analysts keeping up with the akuma situation in Paris see last night’s events as a cause for concern,” Najda pivoted as the video focused on Juleka and paused. “Some experts have noted upon review of this film that the akumatized person you see here lacks the visible signs of being an akuma. In fact, she appears to be a normal citizen. This has raised concerns that the supervillain Hawkmoth might have figured out a way to create akumas that blend into everyday society. For now, we can only hope that Ladybug and Chat Noir are up to the challenge of confronting this new type of akuma,” Nadja concluded with a serious expression. “And now for the weather-”

            The newscast powered off with a click as Gabriel Agreste rested the remote on a side table before reaching for a cup of coffee.

            “I’m almost impressed at how quickly news travels, Nooroo,” the man pleasantly quipped as he blew on the drink to cool it down. “The fact that the general public has access to an undisputed account of last night’s events means I can move on to the next part of my plan,” he continued.

            “There’s another part to this plan?!” the purple kwami asked, alarmed. The fashion designer seldom failed to impress when it came to his machinations.

            The man smiled. “I didn’t tell you?” he rhetorically asked the kwami. “Ever since I learned that the current government administration was trying to get their hands on a miraculous stone, I felt it was my natural duty to… discourage that sort of behavior,” Gabriel coolly explained. “If you must know, my next plan is to akumatize our good mayor, call his ability to lead into question, and set him up to be replaced by the next election cycle if not sooner,” the fashion designer casually explained.

            “Isn’t that a bit… harsh?” Nooroo questioned, hesitating at the last word.

            “On the contrary, I think that it would be harsh of me to leave Paris with a mayor like Andre Bourgeois, who has proven, again and again, that his actions as mayor are susceptible to influence from his, often emotional and vindictive, family. If anything, I’m doing Paris a favor, this time,” the supervillain countered, making it clear that he had no qualms about his current course of action. “Of course, that’s not all. I plan to have Mayor Bourgeois electronically send me a collection of confidential government materials and any information he has about the deal between the Wunderstein group and the Parisian government, to be dispensed at my leisure of course,” Gabriel explained, eagerly anticipating the fruition of his plan. “I imagine that the resulting scandal would mar the reputations of many politicians, especially those who are after miraculous stones,” the villain concluded, his machinations laid bare before his unwilling confederate.

            “You wouldn’t!” the small kwami cried in alarm.

            “Alas! It seems I must,” Gabriel responded dramatically. “Think about it, Nooroo. The most likely reason any Parisian government officials would want miraculous stones in the first place is to stop me. My hand was forced the moment they signed the Wunderstein act into law. The somewhat botched data acquisition mission doesn’t exactly help things either,” he explained.

            The purple kwami was at a loss for words. As usual, Hawkmoth had outdone himself in his evil planning and there seemed to be nothing that Nooroo could do to stand in his way.

            In another part of Paris, two others were also discussing their plans for the future of the miraculous stones over the phone as they waited for an airplane to arrive.

            “I know I already said this in the note that I left with the fox miraculous, but I want you to prioritize your safety and Trixx’s over anything you find at the Wunderstein labs,” A voice cautioned from one side of the phone.

            “I’ve got it,” Kagami confirmed from the other end. “I also received that computer you sent with the plans of the Wunderstein labs. How did you get those by the way,” the girl asked.

            The man laughed. “I got those with moderately advanced hacking skills,” he explained. “Your inquisitiveness is quite refreshing,” he quipped.

            “Heh, I try,” Kagami responded with a tiny laugh of her own. “In all seriousness though, what makes you think I can actually do this?” Kagami asked the older man. “I mean, infiltrating a science lab of would-be miraculous users is a pretty tall order,” she explained.

            “When I decided that it was imperative to have someone look into the operations of the Wunderstein group, I knew I wanted someone who could use the fox miraculous effectively, due to its illusory powers,” the man explained. “I also wanted to pick someone capable of keeping this investigation discreet, even from the current Ladybug and Chat Noir, who certainly have enough to handle as it is,” the guardian continued. “That second requirement eliminated the current Rena Rouge from my consideration, which meant I had to look for another suitable fox miraculous user, that being yourself,” the Guardian finished.

            “About that, I suppose I’m asking what made me such a good pick,” Kagami probed.

            “Do you consider yourself an adaptable and creative person with a good sense of integrity?” the man calmly asked.

            “I do,” the girl confirmed. “But don’t tell me it’s that simple!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been akumatized! Multiple times!” Kagami accused herself. “Don’t misunderstand me, I love Trixx and a huge part of me is really excited for this, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m worthy,” Kagami explained.

            The man on the other side of the phone paused for a moment, considering his conversation partner’s underlying question. “I often find that it isn’t a helpful policy to judge people, including ourselves, by our worst moments. Take the current Queen Bee, Chloé Bourgeois for example. If I were to have judged her as unworthy due to her impulsiveness and other negative traits, I would have missed out on a very effective heroine and her growth as a person. In truth, I almost did. It was the current Ladybug who persuaded me to even consider her in the first place,” the Guardian explained. “I can’t even begin to express how proud I was when I learned that she had resisted an akumatization after falling victim twice. If I had barred her on the grounds of her previous faults, I might have never witnessed that strength of character,” the Guardian explained.

            “So, what you’re saying is that a hero’s potential isn’t determined by their past actions,” Kagami attempted to clarify.

            “That’s a fair way to understand this example,” the old man agreed. “In any case, I’ll let you go since boarding should start soon, but I’d like to reiterate that regardless of the outcome of this mission, I have full confidence in your ability to be a hero,” the Guardian encouraged before ending the call.

            “Well, that was a pep talk that I didn’t know I needed,” Kagami mused to herself. “I wonder when-”

            “Boarding will begin in five minutes,” a voice blared over the airport speaker. “Passengers in boarding groups one and two should move into the appropriate line,” the voice directed.

            “I suppose that answers that question,” Kagami thought, noting the relative convenience of the announcement as she picked up her bag and walked to the line for boarding group two. Hopefully, the flight would be pleasant.

            Elsewhere in Paris, a hero among heroes was contemplating his next move to suppress evil. A student was staring into the distance as his teacher went over a concept that he already understood. Adrien Agreste was incredibly bored and tired after the previous night’s battle and was thinking of ways to get back at Hawkmoth.

            Unfortunately, he wasn’t making much progress. A large part of the problem was that, last night being an exception, Hawkmoth rarely confronted the heroes of Paris himself, usually hiding in the shadows. If Adrien was honest, finding Hawkmoth’s secret hideout would feel absolutely great right about now. Such were his thoughts as he took a break to check in and see if the lesson had progressed any. He tuned in just in time to hear Ms. Mendeleiev describe how a magnetic field can exert a force on an electrically charged object, like an electron, which would make it spin in a circle if the field was constant. It was an interesting concept, and it gave Adrien much-needed inspiration for how he planned to move against his foe.

            “Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before,” Adrien mused internally. “Since all of the akumas are under Hawkmoth’s influence, the butterflies that he uses might actually fly back to Hawkmoth after they lose their potential to akumatize people,” the hero theorized. “It’s worth a try, anyway,” he contentedly thought to himself. It was about time that Hawkmoth faced some consequences for his actions.


	21. Super Macho Man

            Gabriel Agreste ascended to his lair, a cloud of white butterflies fluttering in his wake. He would soon begin his plan to retaliate against the officials who would seek to stymie his efforts, or so he thought.

            As soon as Gabriel transformed into Hawkmoth, he sensed a pure and chaotic rage that was just too good to pass up.

            “Fly, my akuma, and evilize him!” Hawkmoth commanded as he charged one of the butterflies with dark energy. He looked closer at the man who he was now able to envision.

            The man was at a gym, a muscled bodybuilder who was angrily lifting weights. It was a decent start, Hawkmoth decided. The villain then looked closer, into the cause of the bodybuilder’s anger. Love, that four-letter word that wrought so much joy and sorrow. Apparently, the bodybuilder’s girlfriend of three days had just left him for another, more muscular, gym enthusiast. The man didn’t take that well and resorted to lifting weights in an angry fit of trying to improve his physique. Hawkmoth chuckled. If the bodybuilder wanted to improve his muscles, that was certainly a doable task, if he didn’t mind some akuma related help, of course.

            The villain waited for a few minutes before his akuma entered the gym. By the time the other patrons noticed its presence, it was too late for them to do anything.

            “Super Macho Man,” Hawkmoth renamed his victim as the akumatization began. “I have the power to give you the body you desire,” he enticed as the man was wracked with a fit of agony. “I can make you a hero who is loved by all,” the villain continued as the akuma’s energy bored deeper into the man’s psyche. “All I ask is that you use your new power to strike down Ladybug and Chat Noir, the false guardians of Paris, and give me their miraculouses,” Hawkmoth concluded as the akumatization process began in earnest.

            “Of course!” the man cried as he was enveloped in a cloud of dark smoke. “Anything to stop me from feeling so… out of shape!” he declared, struggling to find the right words.

            The bodybuilder's body grew by about half of its previous size as the man’s clothes morphed into a chrome spandex superhero outfit emblazoned with a large fist, complete with a teal cape.

            “I… am… SUPER! MACHO! MAAAAAAN!” the akumatized man energetically proclaimed before eagerly using his newfound strength to make an exit through the nearest wall.

            Super Macho Man gallantly leapt off the ground and flew straight to city hall, where he demanded that the mayor announce his challenge to Ladybug and Chat Noir.

            The mayor, quite terrified by the incredibly muscular man who had barged into his office, quickly showed the intruder to his emergency broadcast equipment.

            “Thank you, citizen!” the akumatized man thanked the mayor. “Fear not! Super Macho Man is here to save the day!” he energetically proclaimed before activating an emergency broadcast with the mayor’s equipment.

            “Ladybug and Chat Noir! Too long have you stood in the way of true justice and heroism by endangering this city every second you withhold your miraculouses from Hawkmoth. As a true hero of justice, loved by all, it is my charge, NO, my duty, to strip you of your titles as false heroes and stand tall as a true guardian of the Parisian citizens. I hereby challenge you to a duel at noon at the Eiffel tower. I trust you will accept,” the akumatized man challenged as he ended the broadcast.

            After making that announcement, Super Macho Man made a super quick exit from city hall as he searched for a nice place to eat before his duel. He found the staff at his destination to be quite accommodating, if not slightly terrified for some reason. Super Macho Man had a hero’s feast until 11:30. He had the staff provide him with a seemingly endless stream of bacon, pancakes, water, and many other menu items to fuel his upcoming fight.

            At the end of his feasting, he made sure to thank the staff and was shocked when they didn’t want him to pay, simply begging him to move on to his next destination. “The staff here must have a very strong sense of justice!” Super Macho Man thought to himself as he left the restaurant and began to fly to the Eiffel tower.

            Predictably, the rather nonplussed dynamic duo of Paris was waiting at the Eiffel tower to confront Super Macho Man, when he arrived.

            “Greetings, evildoers!” Super Macho Man boomed as he landed on the street, getting the heroes’ attention. “I am SUPER! MACHO! MAAAAAAN!” the akumatized man introduced himself, accentuating each word of his title with muscled poses.

            Ladybug and Chat Noir stared at the man in disbelief as he walked closer, continuing to speak.

            “Our battle will be recorded in history!” Super Macho Man declared. “With me as the great and triumphant hero who is loved by all and you as the evildoers who inevitable crumble before my infinite strength,” the man continued to monologue as he took a place across from the heroes. “With that being said, come at me, if you dare!” Super Macho Man challenged with his cape fluttering in the wind.

            “I’ve got to hand it to him, he sure has a lot of self-confidence,” Chat quipped to his partner, seemingly ignoring the akuma’s challenge.

            “No kidding!” Ladybug replied. “I could learn a thing or two from him in that department,” she agreed.

            “You, My Lady?! No way, you’re the embodiment of confidence itself,” Chat complimented, now completely ignoring the akuma.

            “Really, Chat? Look in a mirror. You have to have way more confidence than I do to keep using those awful puns of yours,” Ladybug joked.

            “Ladybug, I’m apawled that you would say such a thing!” Chat responded in mock horror. “We are definitely going to talk about this later!” he jokingly reprimanded, finally turning towards the akuma.

            “I’m sorry, Super Nacho Man, was it? I hope we didn’t keep you waiting,” Chat addressed the akuma, already attempting to goad his opponent.

            “It’s Super Macho Man actually,” the akuma corrected, unamused. “I don’t mind the wait. It’s only fair to allow a dying person their last words,” he declared with a solemnity that somehow blended in with his over-the-top manner. “Since you have not chosen to make the first move, I suppose that privilege falls to me!” the akumatized man yelled as he jumped off the ground, flying low and fast towards Chat Noir with his fist outstretched.

            Chat, being surprised by Super Macho Man’s speed, only managed to deflect the akuma’s blow from his chest to his left ribcage. He let out a cry of pain as the akuma skidded to a stop on the ground a few feet away from him.

            “Ladybug, cover me!” Chat requested as he tightly gripped his side in pain. He didn’t feel anything broken, but he certainly would appreciate a minute or two to recover.

            Ladybug threw her yoyo at the akuma, hoping to entangle him. Super Macho man responded by yelling “Super Macho kick!” and kicking the man body of the yoyo upwards with enough force to send it flying out of the heroine’s hand.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me!” the spotted heroine lamented as she leaped upwards to retrieve her yoyo. Super Macho Man took the opportunity to leap up at her in a repetition of the move he used on Chat Noir, only to be deflected by the aforementioned hero’s extendable staff.

            Ladybug opened her yoyo and activated its phone feature. “Master Fu, we’re going to need everyone we have for this one, he’s way too powerful,” the girl informed.

            “I understand, I’ll have the turtle and bee miraculouses ready for you to use when you arrive,” the Guardian responded.

            “What about the fox miraculous?” Ladybug questioned while repositioning herself behind Chat Noir, who was defending against something the akuma dubbed a “Super Macho smackdown.”

            “Trixx is still recharging. For some reason, there’s been an irregularity with the fox miraculous. I suspect yesterday’s battle was especially taxing,” he responded.

            “Okay, I’ll be there soon,” Ladybug accepted as she ended the call. “Chat, we need to fall back for now.

            “Easier said, than done, My Lady!” Chat called out through gritted teeth as he continued to parry the akuma’s onslaught from a kneeling position that he’d been forced to adopt by an earlier misstep.

            “Lucky charm!” the spotted heroine hurriedly cried before catching a red and black ball in her hands. Her vision darted from the ball to the akuma. She noted that this lucky charm seemed incredibly straightforward before throwing the ball at the akuma, where it erupted into a cloud of smoke on contact.

            Fortunately, the heroes were able to escape while the smoke confused Super Macho Man. After some discussion, and a break for Ladybug to recharge her kwami, Chat Noir and Ladybug set out to meet up with Master Fu and deliver the two miraculouses, with Chat Noir carrying the bee miraculous and Ladybug handling the turtle miraculous.

            After the two heroes recruited Queen Bee and Carapace to join the fray, both of which were still on their lunch break, the four heroes regrouped to form a plan of attack to defeat the akuma who was currently flying freely about the city.

            “So, what’s the plan?” Queen Bee eagerly asked.

            “If our earlier fight is any indicator of that akuma’s strength, I don’t think we should risk an all-out attack,” Chat mused aloud.

            “I saw some news coverage of the battle. I’m pretty sure I can keep up with his moves,” Carapace contributed.

            Ladybug thought for a moment. “I think it would be best if Chat, Carapace, and I started a feint attack on the akuma to draw its attention and Queen Bee paralyzed him from behind while he’s distracted,” Ladybug directed.

            Chat Noir nodded in approval. “That also gives us the time to find the akumatized object. Speaking of which, does anyone have an idea of what it might be?” the black-clad hero asked.

            The other heroes looked at each other for a few seconds before Carapace spoke up.

            “On TV, the akuma’s cape looked unnaturally shiny. So, maybe that?” the green hero commented with some uncertainty.

            “It’s a good working theory,” Ladybug approved. “Are we ready?” she asked the team of heroes confidently.

            With three responses in the affirmative, the group of heroes set out to face Super Macho Man. Fortunately for them, the flying man in silver spandex was relatively easy to spot.

            After the four found the akuma, Queen Bee split off from the other heroes to prepare for her surprise attack. The other three scaled a nearby roof and taunted the akuma to gain its attention.

            Super Macho Man arrested his airborne search for the heroes of Paris when he spotted Ladybug, Chat Noir, and their green friend whose name he didn’t know atop a nearby building.

            “This time, I’ll stop them for sure!” he thought as he zoomed towards the trio with comic book-like speed, stopping rapidly on the opposing side of the roof as he floated ominously in midair.

            “What’s this? Another false hero?!” Super Macho Man disappointed scolded his three opponents. “Is there a Parisian injustice league I should know about?” the akumatized man asked.

            “I wouldn’t call Hawkmoth and friends an injustice league myself, but we can work with that if it floats your boat,” Chat Noir quipped in response to the Super Macho Man’s query.

            “I take it you’re not going to surrender your miraculouses peacefully then,” Super Macho Man stated with a scowl.

            “You assume correctly,” Ladybug confirmed. “You’re the only one who’s going to be defeated today!” she declared. “Chat, Carapace, let’s do this!” the spotted heroine commanded as the other two leapt into action.

            Carapace provided support to Ladybug and Chat Noir as the akuma attempted to rain a torrent of blows on the heroes. However, he was caught off-guard when the akuma suddenly targeted him directly.

            “Super Macho combo!” the akumatized man yelled as he dodged, Chat’s staff to send his right fist into Carapace’s shield. The green hero managed to block the blow but was unprepared for the airborne akuma to simultaneously kick his shield arm from underneath, sending the hero into the air.

            “Super Macho justice elite smackdown!” the hero-themed akuma called out as he charged his left fist with energy and gave Carapace a sucker punch that could audibly be heard by the heroes on the rooftop.

            The green hero felt the wind rush out of his lungs as he violently careened towards the ground, barely managing to squeeze out enough air to call for his Shellter ability, which absorbed the otherwise devastating impact that created a crater in the street below upon impact.

            Ladybug used the opening created by Super Macho Man’s punch to grab him with her yoyo in hopes of grounding him so that Queen Bee, who was now atop a nearby building, could stun the akuma.

            Chat, for his part, helped Ladybug pull on the yoyo string as Super Macho Man attempted to wrestle free of its binding in midair.

            Queen Bee quickly closed the gap between herself and Super Macho Man and managed to use her venom to paralyze him before he broke free.

            “That got a bit dicey towards the end,” Chat commented as he casually tore Super Macho Man’s cape, freeing the akuma therein.

            “You can say that again,” Ladybug agreed upon capturing the akuma and using her miraculous cure. “Carapace, are you okay?” she questioned, looking to the hero on the street below.

            “I’ll live, but that guy sure packed a punch,” Carapace confirmed as he rose from his position on the ground.

“I have to go! I’ll see you guys later!” Chat suddenly interjected as he bounded across the roof. He hadn’t had to use his cataclysm at all in the last battle and wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to follow Hawkmoth’s butterfly.

While the rest of the heroes disbanded and Ladybug left to return the extra miraculouses, Chat Noir stealthily followed the now-purified butterfly. The butterfly, perfectly content to flutter at a relaxed pace, took about ten minutes to reach its destination. Chat felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise to a fine point when he saw where the butterfly landed, his own backyard.

Chat ran through some possible explanations in his mind. Either Hawkmoth knew who he was and was toying with him, the akuma landed in his backyard randomly, or Hawkmoth was currently in his house. None of those possibilities made him feel any better. The hero braced himself as he crept closer in order to sneak into his own home.


	22. A Battle of Facades

           The white butterfly twitched atop a stone fountain behind the Agreste mansion. Its wings flapped gently without propelling it for a suspended moment before the butterfly took to the air. It flitted from its stone perch through a hole in a glass window and came to rest inside the mansion, which seemed to trigger a metal screen sealing the window shut. All of this was seen by the Parisian superhero Chat Noir, who watched in confusion and horror. It seemed to him that Hawkmoth, his most notable enemy, had built a secret base in Chat Noir’s own home!

            The hero’s stomach grew butterflies of its own as Chat Noir considered his next move. He first tried to call Ladybug, and predictably received no response. “Of course. She probably just detransformed,” he thought. He then considered calling the police before dismissing the idea on the grounds that it would take them too long to arrive.

            “I suppose I’ll have to do this myself,” the cat-themed hero muttered to himself as he gracefully made his way towards the mansion’s roof, carefully staying out of view of the security cameras whose presence he was well aware of. If any of the Parisian superheroes needed to infiltrate a mansion, Chat Noir would have easily been the best pick; he just would have preferred it not be this particular mansion.

            Chat Noir peered at the metal plate covering the window that the butterfly had traveled through from his place on the roof. Since he didn’t know what to expect on the other side of the plate, using his cataclysm to break it wasn’t a real option. So, the superhero settled for the next best thing, carefully clawing a hole through the roof above the room with the window. As the hero cut through the roofing, he reasoned that the circumstances of Hawkmoth very likely being in the room below warranted the otherwise unpleasant measure.

            He dropped down into the room below with a soft thud. What he saw both shocked him and steeled his resolve. Within the room, he saw clusters of white butterflies, each peacefully perched on the three walls that didn’t touch the room’s single window. A few butterflies fled from their perches due to the hero’s unexpected entrance and fluttered about the room, but the majority were eerily still as Chat Noir looked about the ominous, and otherwise empty, space. Overcoming his shock, the hero looked about the room to ensure the absence of cameras before temporarily releasing his transformation in order to take pictures of the abandoned hideout.

            The second he resummoned his transformation and took another step forwards, all of the butterflies scattered.

            “INTRUDER DETECTED! INTRUDER DETECTED!” a loud mechanical voice blared before the wall sprouted a variety of weapons and aimed them at the hero.

            “I really shouldn’t have expected it to be that easy,” Chat Noir muttered to himself as he prepared for the coming onslaught.

            The first rocket launched at him from above, leaving the hero barely enough time to deflect the missile with his staff before getting launched forwards by the explosion’s recoil. Oddly enough, the room seemed undamaged from the explosion. Chat Noir quickly made two assumptions. The first of which was that he was in a very sturdy room and the second being that Hawkmoth’s security system wasn’t going to inflict enough damage to ruin the supervillain's lair. Taken together, these assumptions told the hero that he probably wouldn’t die unless he took a direct hit.

            So it was that Chat Noir spent the next two minutes dancing through volleys of rockets, dodging the deathly sprays of bullets that came between the explosions that were often only precluded by the subtle appearance of a gun's snout, and watching with grim resolve as charred butterfly wings fell to the ground, the butterflies’ white turned to the dark color of an akuma in their last moments.

            If Chat Noir was honest, he found Hawkmoth’s lair to be as much of a headache as the man himself and was greatly relieved when he bumped into a button on the side of the room furthest from the window and found a pause in the attack. The weapons had stopped their assault.

“Weapons systems deactivated. Ammunition is at 40% capacity,” a mechanical voice informed, as the weapons retracted into the wall amid the light smoke of the explosions. Chat Noir breathed a huge breath of relief as he turned to examine the wall in greater detail. When he did so, the hero found a switch next to the button that had possibly saved his life. When he flicked it, a rectangular section of the floor beneath him began to descend, carrying him out of the villain’s lair. When the floor stopped moving, the hero was enveloped in darkness, the only light. He pushed the wall in front of him only to find that it gave shockingly little resistance as it opened up into his father’s atelier of all places.

            Adrien was shocked. How could Hawkmoth have infiltrated his house, built a secret lair equipped with a weapons system, and created a passage from Gabriel Agreste’s atelier to the aforementioned space of evil? The kid hero, apparently too young to shave, either refused or didn’t think to use Occam’s razor to propose an answer to his questions as he traversed the study and made for its exit. On the other side of the door, he came face to face with its proper occupant’s designated assistant, one Nathalie Sancoeur, who promptly dropped the clipboard that she was holding at the sight of him.

            “Chat Noir!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing here?!” she asked in an incredibly uncharacteristic unnerved voice.

            “Funny you should ask. I have reason to believe that Hawkmoth has been using this location as a base for his operations,” the hero drily explained. “Any thoughts on that, Ms. Sancoeur?” Chat Noir probed, his expression as serious as his mind was frantic.

            “Frankly, that’s quite shocking to hear,” Nathalie truthfully replied. She was, after all, not expecting to have this conversation with Chat Noir, let alone fifteen feet from the hidden entrance to Hawkmoth’s akumatization room.

            “I can understand that this news is unsettling,” Chat Noir assuaged. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t be surer of my conclusions. My search took me here after I followed an akuma to this house. Imagine my grim surprise when I saw it fly into a room with a self-sealing metallic covering. When I entered the room, I didn’t just find the butterfly that had guided me there. I also found a veritable sea of would-be akumas and a functioning weapons system,” the hero explained.

            “I-I don’t know what to say,” the assistant slightly stammered as she attempted to think of a response to the hero’s statements. “Perhaps, playing dumb might be the best approach,” she thought, realizing that any knowledge on the matter that she contributed could be used against her.

            “That’s quite unfortunate,” Chat Noir responded with an air of disinterest. “I was hoping that Mr. Agreste or his staff could provide some insight into this matter. If I’m wrong, just let me know now and I’ll be on my way to confer with the police about this new lead on Hawkmoth,” the hero coolly stated. It was only a partial bluff, he would eventually go to the police but he really hoped that his father had an explanation for this. “Could there even be an explanation for this?” the hero wondered as his conversation partner began sweating like a professional athlete.

            Nathalie Sancoeur had a few choice decisions in front of her, but she ultimately decided that time would allow her better options.

            “Unfortunately, Mr. Agreste is out at the moment, but I can attempt to contact him if you’d like to wait in the drawing room,” Nathalie lied hoping to stall the hero.

            “That is indeed unfortunate, Ms. Sancoeur. I’m afraid I have other things that I must do today, but let Mr. Agreste know that I’ll be in touch,” Chat Noir informed as he brushed past the woman. Just like that, her play for time was shot down.

            “One last question, Chat Noir. How did you know my name?” Nathalie asked the hero, who was still moving towards the front door.

            “Ms. Sancouer, I was investigating this residence in connection with Hawkmoth, I found it prudent to at least gather some information on the people who frequent it on a daily basis,” the hero bluffed as he walked out the front door, free to deal with the implications of what he had found… after coming up with an excuse for his teachers, of course.


	23. A Clash of Kwamis

Friday was a mostly relaxing day for Kagami. After her flight into Germany, she spent the better part of the day sightseeing and tasting German delicacies, courtesy of the Guardian of the miraculous stones. That night, she and Trixx went over the plans of the Wunderstein labs that the aforementioned man had sent them before turning in for the evening in an upscale hotel. As it turned out, the main lab of interest for the two would be a lab labeled on the plans as the ‘Experimental Design Lab,’ which was located down a road that lead west from Wunderstein’s central facility. After that, if they had time, they would stop by the main facility’s ISC, or Information Storage Center, which was designated as being on the fifth floor of Wunderstein’s main building, to erase any miraculous-related data.

            That night, the would-be heroine made her way to the outskirts of the Wunderstein group’s lab complex with the aid of her recently acquired superpowers. She stopped once she found a suitable hiding place within the forest near the lab and detransformed to consult her map once more before sneaking in to steal any miraculous-related research from the labs.

            “Ready?” Kagami silently asked Trixx after looking at the plans and confirming that the building the two were facing was the correct one.

            The small kwami paused before answering. “I-I’m not sure,” Trixx said with a slight hint of worry in his voice. “Now that we’re here, something is really bothering me,” the fox kwami explained as he tried to put the unexpected feeling into words. “It feels like there’s something in there that threatens my entire being,” The kwami elaborated, his tail twitching anxiously. “It feels like another kwami,” he concluded.

            Kagami drew a sharp breath. She wasn’t truly prepared to face another miraculous user. If it came down to a fight, there was a very real chance that she would lose; she didn’t have her weapon of choice after all. “I guess we’ll just have to be extra careful then,” the girl resolved as she turned to face the building. “Trixx, let’s pounce!” the girl instructed as her transformation reappeared. It was time for the fox to play.

            As Kagami carefully scaled the complex’s outer fence, she scanned the area inside the facility, trying to identify the security cameras that were noted on the plans. Once she landed silently on the other side of the fence, the temporary Rena Rouge took her time delicately moving closer to the Experimental Designs Lab while staying out of the view of any cameras. There did appear to be a few guards patrolling the facility, but Kagami was able to use the cover of night to avoid their watchful eyes.

            Eventually, the fox-miraculous user found herself in front of the Experimental Design Lab, where the danger of her search only grew. Using her enhanced strength, Kagami made her way to an outer portion of the lab’s second floor where, just as the plans indicated, there was a ventilation grate that could be persuaded to move with a little brute force. Kagami used the attached air vent to make her way inside the lab, her costume muffling the sounds of her movements. After she saw a grate below her that lead into a seemingly isolated hallway, the heroine made her way down from the vent.

            “Well that was fun,” Kagami quietly commented aloud as she observed her surroundings. Aside from a pair of cameras pointed at each end of the hallway, she didn’t notice anything threatening. This was the trickiest part of her search. Kagami knew that the second through fourth floors of the Experimental Designs Lab were composed of a large central hallway and several rooms on either side and that the first floor was just a lobby with a security checkpoint. What she didn’t know was which room, if any, had the research materials that she was looking for. Lacking a better option, Kagami began to try each door, starting from the end of the hallway that was on her left. Inside the first ten rooms, each of which helpfully lacked a label, the heroine found the same set of research apparatuses and mechanical devices set up on various tables. “Obviously, these rooms aren’t being used right now,” the girl concluded as she made her way to the first of the final six rooms on the second floor.

            At the eleventh room, in a twist that Kagami felt that she would encounter sooner or later, the heroine encountered a locked door. Rather that dealing with it immediately, she tried the door on the opposite side of the hallway, which opened without complaint, revealing yet another empty room. “Apparently not much is happening on the second floor,” Kagami whispered in slight frustration as she exited the room. A few minutes later, she found that the other rooms on the floor were also empty.

            Kagami had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Fifteen empty rooms out of sixteen, only two noticeable cameras on the floor, and, worst of all, a growing feeling of anxiety that seemed to be emanating from her costume. Now somewhat unnerved, the current Rena Rouge broke through the one locked door that she had found on the second floor. She was rewarded with a lone folder.

            The folder, labeled with a large red ‘D,’ was placed almost conspicuously on a table in the middle of the otherwise dark room. Kagami grabbed it and all of the lights on the floor went dark.

            Within seconds, Kagami’s heart rate jumped as she tried to make sense of her dark surroundings, anxiously clutching the folder.

            “I believe you have something of mine,” a voice called out from the darkness. “As a fair warning, the last person who tried to make off with some of my research ended up in a wonderfully equipped hospital room,” the voice continued in an almost jovial manner that nearly scared the heroine into a petrified stillness. If it weren’t for the almost sweltering heat now radiating from her costume, she might have been trapped by her own fear.

            Kagami quietly made her way to the room’s door and attempted to peer out into the dark hallway. Her attempt at escape was met with a clanging sound that bounced off of the doorway in front of her.

            “That was a warning shot,” the voice calmly explained. “I have some degree of night vision, so I’m afraid that I can currently see you. If you surrender, I promise that I’ll be much more merciful than if you continue to resist,” the voice offered as Kagami heard a sound that sounded like something being stretched.

            The heroine, in spite of her panicked state, managed to flatten herself against a wall, her mind furiously racing, trying to create a plan of escape.

            “I’m afraid the ‘D’ on the file you’re holding stands for decoy,” the voice smugly continued. “Unfortunately, we’ve had a very recent security breach so I deemed it necessary to take a few preventative measures, such as clearing the entire second floor,” the voice continued as Kagami began to hear footsteps on the metallic floor.

            “P-Please stop!” the heroine pleaded with the unknown assailant, reasoning that her location was already well-known.

“I’m afraid that option isn’t really on the table,” the voice refused as the footsteps continued. “Firstly, the time to stop was before you came here and secondly, there are a few questions I’d like you to answer,” the voice explained as the footsteps stopped on the other side of the wall that Kagami was hiding behind.

            The girl was panicking. With few other options left to her, she called out for an illusion. Suddenly, an army of Rena Rouges burst from the room, each one trying to escape. The source of the voice was unperturbed.

            “I must inform you that illusions won’t work on me, but I that you for answering one of my questions,” the voice explained as Kagami heard the sound of a switch being hit.

            Suddenly, she heard the sound of a machine whirring and found that a sheet of metal had risen up to cover her exit route. The heroine’s panic was in no way assuaged when she heard the telltale hissing of gas from behind her. Soon, the darkness of the room made its way into her body. Kagami slept.

            When the heroine awoke, she found herself detransformed, strapped to a chair, and inside of a dark room, save for the glaring spotlight shining directly above her.

            “Glad to see you’re awake!” the same voice called out from the darkness. “Your kwami has been quite helpful in answering my questions,” it informed as a masked man in pink stepped into the edge of the spotlight’s beam.

            “Who are you?” the girl angrily asked, struggling against her restraints.

The man looked on, amused. “I’m afraid it’s my place to ask the questions for now. I’d like to start by saying that I mean you no harm but I will have my curiosity sated,” the man informed her before hesitating for a few seconds. “As a show of good will, I will inform you that I am the wielder of the miraculous of insight, which is why, I imagine, both of our kwamis were quite anxious tonight,” the miraculous wielder explained.

“Both?” Kagami questioned.

“I did mention that I already spoke with your kwami. My own kwami voiced the same sentiment of unease is all that I mean to say,” the man elaborated. “In any case, I would like to ask you a few questions. Firstly, who are you? Secondly, what was your purpose in coming here? And finally, how did you obtain that miraculous of yours? I’d appreciate answers with a fair degree of detail if you please,” the man instructed as he finished making his demands.

There was a pregnant pause as Kagami’s eyes flitted about the room, apparently assessing any options available to her. After finding that there were none, she began to speak.

“My name… is Kagami. I was recruited by an individual known to me as a ‘Guardian of the Miraculous’ who equipped me with a miraculous to infiltrate this facility and remove any compromising research materials. I trust that will suffice?” the girl offered.

The man pondered the information that he had just been given before responding. “I was not aware that there was a Miraculous Guardian. How does one go about meeting such a person?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t know. He approached me,” came Kagami’s terse reply.

“A pity, that. Where might this individual have approach you?” the man probed further.

“In Paris,” came the even shorter reply.

The man paused, stopping again to digest the info. He wordlessly stepped back into the darkness before the room was enveloped in a temporary flash of pink light. “Iris, what’s the verdict?” the man asked.

“She’s telling the truth, or at least she hasn’t told a lie,” a female voice answered.

“I see,” the man acknowledged just before the pink light flashed through the room again.

“How about we make a deal?” he offered contemplatively, stepping back into the light.

“I’m not sensing much of a choice, here” Kagami exasperatedly commented.

“It’s actually not a bad arrangement. Essentially, you go back to this Miraculous Guardian of yours and tell him to expect a visit from me sometime within the next two weeks. I would improve my chances of consulting a valuable source of information and you would walk out of here alive with your kwami, it’s a win-win,” the man explained cheerfully.

“Um, sure…” Kagami said after a moment’s pause. “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you giving me such a relatively good deal?” she asked.

“There are two reasons. Firstly, I’m perfectly content with the number of miraculous stones I have in my possession, I only seek to improve their capabilities, hence my desire to meet with this Guardian. Secondly, offering you a good deal, which includes returning your miraculous, would presumably cause the Guardian to view me in a more positive light, ameliorating our future meeting. Who knows? If things go well, we might actually end up working together in the future,” the man explained with a chuckle as he loosened her bonds.

“You’re seriously letting me go?” Kagami questioned him again in disbelief as she rubbed her sore wrists. The man nodded in the affirmative before taking the miraculous of illusion out of his pocket and offering it to her.

“Thanks… I appreciate it,” the girl quietly replied as Trixx materialized in front of her.

“I normally don’t deal so leniently with people who try to make off with my research, but you can consider this a special exception due to you piquing my interest. Feel free to tell the Guardian that we can talk about both my research and his own knowledge at a later date,” the man explained as Kagami rose from the chair.

“I’ve unlocked the doors leading to the first floor, so you should be able to make your way out,” the man continued as he gestured towards an open door.

“Thanks again,” Kagami acknowledged the man’s unexpected mercy. She stopped for a moment. “Before I go, what should I call you?” she asked her ex-captor.

“Hmm, an excellent question,” the man pondered. “Your kwami mentioned that you miraculous wielders usually bear a second name in order to shield your true identities. With that in mind Ms. Kagami, you may call me Inquisitor.”


	24. All According to Plan

            Gabriel Agreste was having a fairly terrible Friday. At the crack of four o’clock in the afternoon, he was greeted by a team of no less than fifteen police officers who had been sent to investigate the room that Chat Noir had somehow found. The man exhaled a clearly vexed breath of air as he watched the last of the officers enter his atelier, which was now being dissected by the army of investigators. It was already quite apparent that he was going to have some trouble smoothing this incident over.

            “Sir, I’m afraid that I’ll have to ask you to come with me to make a statement,” one of the police officers informed him after some time had passed.

            “Of course,” Gabriel succinctly replied, barely keeping his anger out of his voice.

            Several hours later, the police retired from the house after laying several lines of police tape in order to effectively seal off the atelier. Adrien had arrived in the middle of their process and was expectedly somewhat alarmed. Thankfully, Nathalie was present to answer his many questions. Gabriel released a sigh of vexation once he confirmed that the last of the officers had left the premises via his security cameras. He had instructed some of his staff to perform a bug sweep immediately after the officers’ departure but had found nothing. It was a small consolation.

            Quite annoyed by the recent development, the fashion designer retreated to his personal room and retrieved a miniature butterfly habitat from a hidden panel in his rather large closet. Once he had it in hand, he summoned his kwami.

            “Nooroo, I believe now would be a good time to move forward with my plan to akumatize the mayor,” Gabriel declared to his tiny companion.

            “Are you sure that’s wise, sir? Doing so immediately after this investigation would only point towards you as the culprit,” the purple kwami ventured in an attempt to dissuade the man.

            “On the contrary, the investigation today provides the perfect cover for me to akumatize mayor Bourgeois for one simple reason. As of right now, nobody outside of this house knows that it's possible for an akuma to be sustained without Hawkmoth being transformed,” the fashion designer explained.

            “So, you mean that if you could show that mayor Bourgeois was akumatized at the same time that you were doing something else-” Nooroo began.

            “-then I would essentially create a sorely needed perfect alibi,” Gabriel finished. “If I were to combine that account with my previous experience as The Collector, then I imagine even the most skeptical officers on the police force would be hard-pressed to come up with a case to pin me as Hawkmoth, despite Chat Noir’s unfortunate discovery of my akuma observatory. I can only hope that the offending hero will also buy the ruse,” Gabriel explained.

            Nooroo let out a sigh. “I take it you’re not going to be talked out of this?” the kwami asked resignedly, his eyes cast downwards towards the perfectly laminated floor beneath him.

            “Unfortunately, Chat Noir has forced my hand,” the man confirmed. “It appears that I must take a bold step forward if I wish to stay on the offensive,” Gabriel explained. There was a pause before he chose his next words. Frankly, Nooroo was surprised that he didn’t just summon the transformation and do the deed.

            “I honestly should have expected something like this to happen,” the fashion designer admitted with a heavy sigh. “Chat Noir recently told me that ‘you can’t be subtle if you ever want to make it to the catwalk’ during a recent fight. At the time, he claimed that it was just a cat pun. It was foolish of me to believe his words. Looking back on today’s events, I realize quite clearly that Paris’s heroes may well suspect that I am Hawkmoth, meaning I’m going to have to step up my game,” Gabriel reflected, adjusting his broach in a subconscious effort to prepare himself. “Dark wings, rise,” the man called out, almost in a whisper.

            The transformation lacked its usual air of ominousness that was partially afforded by the setting of his observatory/lair, but Gabriel Agreste had become Hawkmoth just the same. The villain reached over to the miniature butterfly habitat and charged one of its occupants with dark energy. He then walked over to one of the windows of his room and opened it.

            “Fly my akuma, and lead me to a better tomorrow,” the supervillain commanded as he watched the akuma flutter into the distance.

            Meanwhile, at city hall, André Bourgeois was having a great day! He had just finished a conference call with some of his sponsors for the next year’s election and everything was turning up roses. He’d even received a report from the police indicating that they had made a major breakthrough in identifying the villain known as Hawkmoth. By all accounts, he had every reason to celebrate.

            So it was that Hawkmoth’s akuma found the man relaxing in his office by watching a game show on TV after he had finished the last of the day’s paperwork. The sight almost caused the supervillain to panic.

            “I can’t work with this! He’s perfectly content!” Hawkmoth lamented inwardly. He audibly groaned. It was Murphy’s Law at work that the mayor would be in a good mood during an akumatization attempt. However,… he sensed that someone in the next room over felt much less calm.

            Hawkmoth directed his akuma to venture into the adjoining room to the mayor’s and found none other than Audrey Bourgeois marching towards the mayor’s office in a visibly irritated mood. Hawkmoth smiled, it was just what the doctor ordered.

            “André, we need to talk!” Audrey Bourgeois demanded as she pushed open the door to his office.

            “Audrey! What brings you here?” the mayor asked in surprise.

            “I want that girl who was responsible for our daughter’s disappearance prosecuted,” she explained. “But the attorney I talked to said that there was some Akuma Victim Immunity Policy, that you and your government people had passed after the first few akuma attacks, which made prosecuting an akuma victim for their actions while akumatized impossible!”  the irate woman exclaimed.

            “And what do you want me to do about it?” the mayor timidly asked, visibly wincing away from the question.

            “I need you to find a way around the Akuma Victim Immunity Policy so that I can prosecute that girl. It’s not that I’m still mad about Chloé’s disappearance, she’s safe now, but I want that girl prosecuted on principle,” Audrey explained as she crossed her arms and nodded in agreement with her own statement.

            “Honey, you should know why I can’t do that,” the mayor resisted, somewhat frustrated by his wife’s request. “We, government people in your words, enacted the Akuma Victim Immunity Policy to protect a vulnerable class of citizens from being held responsible for their actions under the influence of a known supervillain. Ladybug even reverses the material damage akumas cause, so it’s not like there are any residual grievances that one could really hold against an akuma victim,” mayor Bourgeois calmly explained.

            “André, didn’t you, yourself, once say that a strike against Chloé is a strike against Paris? What’s changed between then and now,” the mayor’s wife confronted.

            “Nothing! It’s just that removing the protections afforded by the Akuma Victim Immunity Policy so that you can prosecute that girl will set a dangerous precedent. Look at us! You, Chloé, and I have all been akumatized. Please realize that by asking me to circumvent the Akuma Victim Immunity Policy, you’re asking me to endanger the three of us as well!” the man implored, hoping that Audrey Bourgeois would see reason.

            Audrey Bourgeois did not see reason.

“André, I don’t really care how, but I want that girl prosecuted!” the mayor’s wife exclaimed as she moved one of her hands to her forehead as if to suppress a headache.

The mayor, for his part, could actively feel his stress level rising as he squeezed the remote in his hand, causing the game show host from his TV show to become quieter in the background. If only there was some way to persuade his wife out of her ill-formed plan.

Hawkmoth unleashed a predatory grin. If there was a will, there was certainly a way, the supervillain resolved as he instructed his akuma to land.

            “Director, I am Hawkmoth,” the supervillain telepathically informed. “For too long have the weak-minded people imputed their will over this city. Join me and I will give you the power to lead them,” the villain offered as the akuma began to meld with the mayor.

            “I… must lead the people!” André Bourgeois declared as the transformation’s energy began to morph his body.

            “Excellent! You’ve been given an upgrade since your last time as an akuma. All you have to do is point that remote at anyone and they will follow your leadership for as long as they are around you,” the supervillain informed. “All I ask in return are the miraculouses of Ladybug and Chat Noir, in addition to some digital files that you have access to,” Hawkmoth requested.

            “Of course! Audrey, wait here while I send the files,” the Director commanded with his remote as he deftly performed the task under Hawkmoth’s instruction. “I thank you, Hawkmoth. Paris will be a better place for your gift,” the Director thanked his benefactor.

            “For your sake, I certainly hope so,” Hawkmoth concluded with a chuckle as he saw the files appear one after the other in one of his burner emails. Everything was going according to plan.


	25. A New Direction

           For his first nefarious act as the Director, André Bourgeois decided to have a relaxing evening at home, something he felt that he had too often lacked. So it was that the mayor’s staff and family were the only people who realized that he was akumatized until Saturday morning, not that they could do anything about it as they were all under his influence.

            At eight AM sharp, the akumatized mayor directed his staff to city hall and made a plan to recruit more citizens to his cause, recruiting a few council members along the way. At noon, he would make an announcement through his emergency broadcast system to coax the Parisian citizens into coming to City Hall. However, the akumatized man considered that his akuma costume would undercut his message for those who were outside of his power’s approximately 3000-meter range and so was struck with an ingenious idea. He would simply order one of the council members he recruited to make the announcement for him!

            “Mr. Rivales, would you be so kind as to make an announcement using my remote at twelve o’clock to persuade the Parisian people to meet at city hall? I’ll give you a script later.” the director jovially asked, relishing in the man’s expected obedience.

            “Of course, Mr. Bourgeois!” the man affirmed as he snapped to attention.

            “Excellent!” the mayor affirmed, enjoying himself even more. “Chloé, could you ask the kitchen staff to make us an early lunch?” the man asked, knowing that if he were defeated, he would likely never get the chance to have his daughter perform such a task.

            “Yes, Daddy!” came the prompt reply, as the girl exited the room. Akuma or not, André Bourgeois was without a doubt enjoying himself at that moment.

            After his early lunch, mayor Bourgeois watched on as Mr. Rivales made the announcement that would bolster his ranks.

            Mr. Rivales began the announcement by subtly pressing down on the remote nearly hidden by his armrest as per the mayor’s instructions before speaking from the script that he had been asked to memorize. “Citizens of Paris, an important matter has come to our attention and I’m afraid that it warrants all of our attention. Mayor Bourgeois will be making a live statement on the matter at twelve thirty from city hall. We strongly encourage you to come if you are able. That will be all for this announcement,” the politician concluded as the equipment shut off.

            The message was good enough for the Director. Unfortunately, he hadn’t managed to recruit his speechwriter, who no doubt would have been useful, but he still suspected that the announcement would suffice to lure in a number of citizens and news stations, the latter of which would be very useful in his efforts to recruit citizens to his cause.

Adrien Agreste was somewhat confused by the announcement when he saw it on a TV behind a shop’s window. “I’m fairly close to city hall, right now. Maybe I’ll see what’s going on after lunch,” the model thought to himself. However, seconds later, he found his feet wandering towards city hall seemingly without his input. The red flags went up when he couldn’t _stop_ walking towards city hall. Adrien sighed as he continued his automatic walk. “Of course, someone’s been akumatized! Hawkmoth, do you know what a break is?” the hero muttered. “Heh,” he chuckled. “Looks like this one’s on you, Bugaboo.”

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was watching TV at home when she saw the announcement. She found it a bit concerning, especially considering Chat Noir’s sudden exit from their last akuma battle. Marinette had originally planned to meet up with Alya at her house, but she thought that her concerns might warrant a change of venue.

Marinette sent a quick text.

 

 _Sender_ \- Did you hear that announcement?

Alya’s response was prompt.

 _Alya_ \- Yeah! Pretty weird, right?

 _Sender_ \- Wanna check it out? It could be an interesting scoop for the Ladyblog.

 _Alya_ \- Girl, you read my mind!

 _Alya_ \- It’s a good idea, especially considering how Chat Noir seemed to run off at the end of the akuma battle. Something could be going on.

 _Sender_ \- How’d you find that out?

Marinette facepalmed as soon as she hit send. She could already propose a guess: Nino had told her. It only made sense since she hadn’t seen Alya during the battle.

 _Alya-_ You’re too funny! As the lead reporter of the Ladyblog, it’s my job to know this stuff!

 _Sender-_ You make a valid point, XD. So, see you at 12:30?

 _Alya-_ As if! You’d best believe that I’m heading your way rn! The early bird gets the scoop, after all!

 

            Marinette let out a faint chuckle as she pocketed her phone. Where would she be without a friend like Alya?

            The reporter showed up at the patisserie five minutes later, eager to take on the world with her cell phone, investigative skills, and her best friend. Marinette met her in the bakery’s dining area and the two exchanged a warm hug before they set out towards city hall.

            When Marinette and Alya were nearly at city hall, they noticed streams of people slowly walking in a mechanical fashion towards the building.

            “You too, huh?” one pedestrian called out to them as he saw them approached.

            “Us too, what?” came Alya’s confused reply, as she focused her attention on the walker.

            The man gave a disheartened chuckle. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s been a large number of people, including yours truly, who literally have lost the ability to stop walking towards city hall. It’s the best I can do to even more this slowly,” the man explained as he continued his march.

            “Alya, you don’t think-” Marinette began before being interrupted by the other girl.

            “Of course, I do! This must be the work of an enemy miraculous user! Namely, Hawkmoth,” the young reporter asserted.

            “I was afraid you would say that,” Marinette acknowledged with a groan. “Your instincts about akuma attacks are usually spot o- I mean really good!” the bluenette complimented, getting somewhat flustered during the latter part of her sentence.

            The brown-haired girl looked at her companion amusedly. “I know you don’t usually _do_ akuma attacks, but wanna help me cover my latest scoop? It’ll be fun!” the reporter offered, encouraging her friend to join her.

            “You’ve got an interesting idea of fun,” the man who the two had been keeping pace with commented. “In any case, we’re here,” the pedestrian informed as the three rounded a corner and arrived at city hall.

            Marinette and Alya hung back from the throng of people gathered in front of the building. They watched as seemingly captive walkers and news reporters added their numbers to the crowd. Alya began recording when the mayor walked out to address the masses. However, when she zoomed in to focus the video, it was visibly apparent that mayor Bourgeois had been akumatized. The two girls let out twin gasps as the akumatized man began his speech.

            “People of Paris, I address you today to usher in a new era of unparalleled leadership,” the mayor began, sweeping over the crowd with his remote. “However, it has come to my attention that the continued presence of Ladybug and Chat Noir would only serve to further destabilize our fair city. I ask you: Why does Hawkmoth terrorize this city? The answer is simple. You can find video recordings of many akuma victims saying it. He wishes to acquire the miraculouses of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Their absence will usher in a new era of peace for the city, so I call on you, each and every person who can hear my words to join me-” the mayor paused, taking the time to quickly point his remote at the news reporters’ cameras. “I call on you to pursue Ladybug and Chat Noir relentlessly, that is my order!” the mayor commanded as a cloud of dark energy stretched over Paris.

            Marinette and Alya watched in terror as the crowd before them was enveloped by the akuma's cloud, before emerging in blue, white, and red armor as minions of the mayor. Alya ended her recording as she grabbed Marinette’s hand and started their retreat.

            “Go!” The mayor commanded in the distance. “Search for Ladybug and Chat Noir! Let no one stop you!” his commands echoed in the ears of the two retreating superheroes. Marinette sighed, this was likely going to be an annoying fight.

            Adrien Agreste felt his body give him two options, he could search Paris for Ladybug or stop, since he had already found Chat Noir. As staying still would seem suspicious, he chose the former. His search came to an abrupt end as he approached the Arc de Triomphe when his akumatized armor vanished and the akuma lost control of him. Looking around, he saw a few other citizens experience the same thing as they moved further away from city hall. “Weird, but I’m not complaining,” the boy hero thought as he retreated into an alley before preparing to transform. “Plagg, Claws-”

            “Hold it, kid!” Plagg furiously interjected from inside the boy’s shirt pocket. “If you go and fight the akuma now, you’ll likely fall under his control again,” the black kwami cautioned. “We need a plan.”

            Adrien paused, Plagg did make a valid point. “Okay, then. The way I see it, I can either use a blindfold to avoid seeing the akuma’s remote that he was waving at people or I can get some earplugs to keep from hearing the akuma’s commands,” Adrien brainstormed.

            Plagg nodded in approval. “Much better. Personally, I’d opt for the earplugs. I think fighting blind wouldn’t exactly work in your favor,” the kwami advised.

            “In that case, it’s time for a quick shopping trip,” the model resolved before stepping out onto the streets of Paris once more.

            Back at city hall, André Bourgois felt troubled. “Some of my people are exiting my sphere of influence. Hawkmoth, what’s going on?” the akumatized man queried.

            “They’re likely exiting the range of your sphere of influence during their searches, reign them in, Director, and show me your leadership skills!” the supervillain implored.

            “Mr. Rivales, prepare another emergency broadcast. It’s time we get this search organized,” the Director commanded. No one else would escape his direction if he had anything to say about it.

            Many kilometers away, far outside of the Director’s sphere of influence, a man watched the replay of the Director’s first emergency broadcast announcement thoughtfully, while enjoying a cup of afternoon tea on a green sofa.

            “Eager to get over there already?” an amused female voice queried from behind the man. “I figured that Paris would be your next stop after you leave us here. Wunderstein will miss you, Mr. Straiton,” the woman commented.

            “And I will miss my fellow coworkers,” the man jovially replied as he paused the recording. “I trust you find the miraculous stone of time to be enjoyable, Dr. Morphic?” the man queried, smiling at his friend. “I certainly found it quite interesting to create,” he continued.

            The woman laughed. “Luke, not everything is about business. I adore the miraculous stone of time, of course, but believe it or not, I’d rather still have you researching with us than another miraculous stone,” the woman complimented, changing the way she addressed her colleague.

            “And that Polly-” the man accented with a pointed finger in the air. “-is why I like you better than, the esteemed and egotistical, Hans Gregson. You actually care about people,” Luke complimented the doctor.

            “Not too many researchers seem to these days,” the woman softly replied, mourning the utterance as she joined her colleague on the soft sofa. “I know things have been a bit tense at times due to company pressure, but I wanted to stop by to let you know that I’ve greatly enjoyed being your director,” Dr. Morphic said, unburdening herself of the message she came to deliver.

            “Same here,” Luke plainly replied. “We’ve had our share of adventures, especially in the earlier parts of my research, but you’ve always been there when it counted,” the scientist complimented.

            “I’m ultimately glad that I was. Even though it’s been two entire years since you joined us, you and Gregson are the only researchers at Wunderstein who specialize in the miraculous stones. Nobody else has even interviewed with that as a focus for research,” Dr. Morphic confided.

            “No kidding?” the man rhetorically asked as he went for another sip of tea. “And here I thought Gregson scared off all of the people before me and everyone else after,” Luke joked.

            “He certainly has a rigorous set of expectations for his staff,” Dr. Morphic agreed without decrying the man.

            “That he does but we love him all the same,” Luke remarked. “He’s actually been a nice coworker ever since he got over thinking that I was here to steal his job,” the man continued.

            “Well, with your pending departure, I think the old man can rest easy on that front. That reminds me, have you tested out his parting gift yet?” Polly asked the researcher.

            “Remember the girl who broke into the labs yesterday?” the man asked with a wry expression on his face. “I implanted a subcutaneous probe in her arm. I’m only glad we had the equipment ready. I’ll have to thank Gregson sometime,” he recounted, clearly pleased with himself.

            Dr. Morphic giggled. “I almost feel sorry for the poor girl. It’s going to be quite a shock if she finds out,” the doctor sympathized.

            “Yes, being injected with a probe that reacts to the presence of miraculous stones, marks the locations of the reactions and their intensity via GPS, and relays the data to software held by yours truly, would give someone quite a shock. I haven’t decided whether it would be cruel of me to tell her that she’ll have effectively handed me the location of whatever Guardian she was going on about,” the researcher elaborated.

            “Maybe a little cruel. However, people who play games with power take certain risks, wouldn’t you agree?” the doctor encouraged with a conspiratorial smile.

            “They certainly do,” the man replied as his face fell from a rather unpleasant memory of one such risk. “It’s exactly because we take such risks that I try to make sure that even my enemies at the end of the day don’t walk away from an encounter dead. There’s a stark difference between a risk and tactical suicide,” the man continued, muttering the last part of his sentence under his breath.

            “Luke, if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. That intern was an idiot to think he could contain the raw power of a concept not even bound to a stone. He wasted valuable resources, made a terrible mistake, and gave me a mountain of paperwork to file. That, I’m over. What I don’t want to happen is for you to walk away feeling like that incident was your fault,” Dr. Morphic consoled worriedly.

            “I know, it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” the man admitted. “Especially since everything could have been avoided if I’d have just locked my research notes that day…” he trailed off, likely lost in thought.

            Dr. Morphic tried to think of a way to console the man who had done so much for the Wunderstein Group’s research division but came up empty in her search. That is, until she received a notification on her phone that the Parisian miraculous wielders were fighting another battle. “Hey, there’s live footage of the Parisian wielders, would you like to watch it?” the doctor queried, already initiating the commands to display the video feed.

            “That I would!” the researcher responded, visibly elated by the prospect.

            The two watched as a camera focused on the dynamic duo of Ladybug and Chat Noir as they battled their way through a horde of possessed citizens. Both seemed to have something in their ears, likely to avoid a sound based assault from the akuma, Luke reasoned as the fighting continued with the akumatized man commanding his large army of possessed Parisians.

            Ladybug summoned her trademark lucky charm, which turned out to be a gigantic subwoofer. Luke smirked when he saw the two heroes exchange a knowing glance before the device was activated. Suddenly, the blaring sounds of the speaker drowned out the akumatized man’s stream of commands, virtually paralyzing his army. Within moments, the heroes ascended to the platform that the mayor had used as a perch for delivering his orders and deakumatized him.

            Dr. Morphic ended the connection. “That’s another point for the heroes. At this rate, I have to wonder if Hawkmoth is even trying,” she commented.

            The man smiled. “At this point, I suspect the Guardian to be far more proactive. Let me show you something,” he said as he typed in a command on his phone.

            The TV flickered back to life. “Here’s some footage from an akuma attack this Thursday,” the researcher explained as the video played. He froze the recording on a close-up of the fox wielder. “That heroine goes by the name of Rena Rouge, though I’m sure you already know that,” the man informed as the picture squeezed itself to only occupy half of the screen. The other side was quickly filled with a still from his interrogation of Kagami. “These are two different people,” he informed, letting the implications of his words sink in.

            “If you hadn’t told me, I might not have guessed, but that idea is coming into focus,” the doctor commented, slightly puzzled.

            “Iris was able to give some insight into why that is,” the man continued. “Apparently, the fox kwami has ‘blessed’ the miraculous stones of the Parisian wielders with illusory powers that shield their identity. You wouldn’t even know if someone you saw on a daily basis was moonlighting as one of these superheroes with such a thing in play,” the researcher explained.

            “I didn’t know such a thing was possible,” Dr. Morphic admitted.

            “Until yesterday, neither did I,” Luke replied. “But imagine the possibilities that it opens! That’s another reason why I must go to Paris. At this point, I could even justify it as a sabbatical if I were a formal scholar!” the man exclaimed.

            “Possibilities, indeed,” Dr. Morphic observed. “I’m curious, though. With this blessing in play, how were you able to discern the differences between those two girls?” the doctor queried.

            “That brings me to another interesting point. From what I’ve observed, the wielders of the miraculouses of insight and illusion are effectively immune to the effects of the opposing miraculous. For example, yesterday I could see through those illusions on camera like they were puffs of air. Furthermore, when I tested my future vision on the captive fox kwami, it was as if he was non-existent, meaning he evaded its scope,” the researcher informed. “With that being said, after I watched some footage of the Parisian heroes while transformed, I was able to clearly observe their features as I would those of a normal person, which allowed me to see that Kagami, the girl I encountered yesterday, and the Parisian Rena Rouge are two different people,” Luke finished.

            “I’ll admit, I’ve often wondered how nobody has discovered the identities of the majority of the Parisian wielders,” Dr. Morphic replied pensively, digesting the information.

            “Well, I promise that I’ll text you when I find out,” the researcher jovially replied. “Though I already have my suspicions as to the alter-ego of a certain black cat,” he informed.

“Oh? Do tell,” the doctor pushed, practically on the edge of her seat.

            The man shook his head. “It wouldn’t do to make an assertion like that without hard evidence, but I promise that you’ll be the first to know when I’ve made sure of my suspicions. Think of it as a second going away gift,” Luke promised.

            “I’ll hold you to that promise Luke Straiton,” Polly Morphic accepted with a hearty laugh. “It promises to be a very good second gift,” she continued as her coworker joined her in laughing. Anyone who walked by would have thought that the joyous pair had just won the lottery. In a way, they wouldn’t have been wrong.


	26. Repercussions

            A dark night rose above the city of Paris. It was the day after Hawkmoth had akumatized mayor Bourgeois. The city itself was not dark. All of the streetlamps vigilantly kept their posts, individual houses gleamed like candles in the night, and even cars provided their own beams to help light the city. However, there was another source of light, one that was mired in darkness.

            Chat Noir gazed upwards from atop the Eiffel tower to see the thing that had covered the moon, darkening the Parisian sky. The answer was a sea of nimbus clouds, each one participating in a dance of white-hot lightning as they moved across the sky. Weirdly, few of the bolts fell to the ground. Most of them buzzed excitedly in the cloud sea but were ultimately contained by pillowy banks. The hero frowned. Although he wasn’t a meteorologist by trade, Chat Noir had no trouble telling that a storm was on the horizon.

            Ladybug encountered her partner in that thoughtful reverie, unsure of his reasons for even asking her to meet him. She waited for a few minutes. However, since the black-clad hero didn’t seem to notice her as he looked towards the sky, she was forced to break his train of thought.

            “Chat, I’m here,” Ladybug calmly declared, making her presence known.

            “Oh? Hey, Ladybug. I didn’t see you there,” the other hero addressed as he shifted his attention. “Thanks for coming tonight, some important stuff has happened in the past few days,” Chat Noir informed.

            “Important, how?” Ladybug probed, unsettled by her partner’s serious attitude.

            Chat Noir shifted his feet as he pieced together his next words. “I found a lead on Hawkmoth,” he informed, visibly wincing as he forced the words out.

            Ladybug’s expression turned to one of shock. “When? How?” she fired off before suddenly stopping. There was a pregnant pause before she unleashed her next question. “Who?” the heroine asked, almost afraid of the answer that could end one of Paris’s most trying periods.

            “To answer that, let me start from the beginning,” Chat Noir started as he began to recount to Ladybug how he came up with his plan to follow a purified butterfly and the things he found after doing so.

            Ladybug stiffened at his first mention of the Agreste mansion. “Wait, just to be sure, you mean the place where Adrian Agreste lives, right?” the heroine asked, her face growing pale in the darkness.

            “That’s the one,” Chat Noir succinctly informed. “However, I severely doubt that he’s the culprit we’re looking for,” the hero declared with an almost tangible amount of confidence.

            Ladybug let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding as she processed the other hero’s words. “What makes you so sure?” she questioned, searching for confirmation that she didn’t have to doubt… _him_ , of all people.

            “During our fight with Gorizilla, Adrien Agreste almost died. I seriously doubt he would have let the situation escalate so far if he were, in fact, Hawkmoth,” Chat Noir explained, thankful that his near-death experience was useful for something.

            “I suppose that makes sense,” Ladybug accepted, adopting a thoughtful posture as Chat finished the rest of his story. “So, that would mean the next logical suspect is-”

            “Gabriel Agreste,” the cat-themed superhero finished for her. However, to hear him say it, the words were like acid on his tongue, undesired but all too necessary to spit out quickly. “Hawkmoth could possibly be one of his staff members, but Gabriel Agreste is the prime suspect,” Chat Noir confirmed, his discomfort only growing with his second verbalization of the assertion. “The police are already investigating the place. I just wanted to know if you think we should search the Agreste mansion for the moth miraculous,” Chat Noir informed, his expression undetectably worsening in their darkened surroundings.

            Ladybug shook her head. “Hawkmoth might have taken extra precautions given the police attention focused on the Agreste mansion. Searching such a large place would be a high-risk operation with very little reward,” the heroine explained.

            Chat paused to consider the idea. “I see. Yes, it would certainly be clawful if someone caught us snooping around. I suppose I’ll follow your lead, then,” the cat-themed hero agreed as he turned around, facing the railing of the tower’s platform.

            “Where are you going?” Ladybug quizzically asked.

            Chat Noir turned around, flashing a trademark grin. “Sorry, My Lady, but the CNNN has other stops to make tonight,” Chat offered by way of an explanation.

            “Isn’t that one too many Ns?” the spotted heroine questioned.

            “Nope! Chat Noir News Network has exactly three Ns last time I checked,” the hero clarified as he leapt off the platform, his grin practically sparkling as it reflected a beam of moonlight.

            The lone heroine sighed. The quality of that joke could only be described as… bad. On top of that, he didn’t even answer her question!

            The sole owner, director, operator, and reporter of the Chat Noir News Network smiled as he fell through the sky before beginning his journey. Just being with Ladybug had greatly improved his mood. Prior to their conversation, the darkly dressed hero had, for lack of a better word, been brooding restlessly over the issue. He felt responsible; if Gabriel Agreste was truly Hawkmoth, then he would have been responsible for tearing apart the Agreste family even further than it already had been. If the man was innocent, then he would have been responsible for jumping the gun and wasting a lot of people’s time. Neither prospect filled him with hope. It was in that state of relative angst that Chat Noir resolved to meet with Ladybug to discuss their next steps. He also planned to meet with someone else, one Master Wang Fu. So it was that the entire staff of the Chat Noir News Network came to the front door of the Guardian of the miraculous and knocked.

            The person who opened the door, however, was not the Guardian himself, he was seated at a low table near the back of the main room. Rather, it was one Rena Rouge that the hero saw. Chat Noir thought that something was off about her although he couldn’t place what, in particular, it was.

            “Rena, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Chat Noir greeted, erasing his feelings of surprise from everything except his word choice.

            “I could say the same to you, Chat Noir. What brings you by this late?” Rena Rouge greeted in kind with a playful smile, draping her body across the doorway as if to deny him entrance until he had explained his purpose.

            “I may or may not have found Hawkmoth’s secret base,” Chat Noir answered with an air of satisfaction, twirling his tail with a smug look on his face.

            “Is that so?” Rena questioned, standing up straight to allow the hero entry. “Well, by all means, come in. It just so happens that we have something to tell you and Ladybug as well,” the heroine beckoned with a knowing smile of her own.

            Chat Noir passed Rena Rouge and took a seat on the floor facing the room’s sole table. Across from him, the old man took his time draining his teacup, taking sip after careful sip as Rena Rouge joined the two. Finally, he set the dinner piece down.

            “Chat Noir, I understand you have some news?” the Guardian invited the hero to speak, having heard the conversation that took place at his doorway.

            The hero explained his story for the second time that night, detailing his plan and subsequent discovery of Hawkmoth’s lair.

            “You’ve made great progress, Chat Noir. Well done!” the old man complimented after listening to the hero’s tale.

            “Thanks. It’s nothing conclusive, but the police investigation should slow down the incoming akumas, not that the mayor’s akumatization makes me feel too confident saying so,” Chat replied. “So, Rena said you had some news for me,” Chat questioned after a moment’s pause.

            The old man paused to pour more tea from his kettle and take another sip before answering. “Rena Rouge, would you like to tell him, or shall I?” the Guardian asked as if the relayer of the news was of no importance to him.

            “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to tell him!” Rena Rouge pounced on the invitation to join the conversation.

            The wielder of the fox miraculous spent the better part of the hour regaling Chat Noir with the tale of her mission to Germany and encounter with the Wunderstein group. The hero listened intently, various emotions crossing his face as he heard the details of her expedition, capture, and return to Paris.

            “So, you’re saying that there’s an entire group of people making their own miraculouses,” Chat Noir processed aloud at the end of Rena Rouge’s story.

            “Unfortunately, yes. Furthermore, we have reason to believe that one of them is interested in contacting me specifically,” the Guardian informed. “Frankly, the lead you found on Hawkmoth is very welcome news in light of this recent development. Struggling with another potential source of trouble might be an unreasonable addition to our workload,” the old man commented.

            “Just one question. Why not contact LB or me about this earlier?” Chat Noir asked, more puzzled than accusatory.

            “At the time, I didn’t fully understand that the Wunderstein group had a fully functioning miraculous stone in their possession, I merely thought they were researching them. Furthermore, I didn’t think it would be wise to leave Paris without some of its best defenses by sending the two of you,” Master Fu explained and complimented simultaneously.

            “Fair enough. Thanks for stepping up Rena,” Chat Noir complimented with a genuinely grateful smile.

            “Oh! Um, thanks. I can hardly accept the compliment though. Things didn’t exactly go perfectly,” Rena acknowledged with an embarrassed blush.

            The Guardian took the heroine’s self-deprecating comment as his cue to interject. “Knowledge is power, and you have brought it in ample proportions. I for one could not be prouder of your performance in the face of adversity,” the old man complimented, raising his teacup in a toast to the heroine.

            “I’ll second that!” Chat Noir approved. “Things have been a lot easier since you joined the team,” the hero happily purred.

            “Since I joined the team? Ah yes, Rena Rouge,” Kagami responded as she realized what Chat Noir was saying.

            “Yep! With LB, Carapace, Queen Bee, you, and me on the team, we practically have a mini Justice League,” Chat Noir gleefully commented, blissfully unaware of the reaction his words sparked in the heroine sitting next to him.

            Chait Noir and Rena Rouge stayed at the Guardian’s residence a while longer, drinking tea, telling jokes, and listening to tales of heroism. For the moment, at least, they were able to consider the repercussions of the last few days to be relatively light. Chat’s mood had done a one-eighty since the beginning of the evening and Rena seemed quite chipper too. In any case, the two of them were feeling far more positive than a group of government officials a few kilometers away.

            Around the time the two heroes began their meeting with Master Fu, President De Rais had just finished dismissing an emergency intelligence council. Nobody had left in a good mood. Despite assurances on all sides of the council, it was hard to overcome the intense feeling of dread that came with facing a massive intelligence leak. To make matters worse, information regarding relations with the Wunderstein group had been leaked to a known supervillain who used miraculous stones. The president massaged his forehead in frustration. “At this rate, pronouncing the man unfit to lead might not be such a horrible suggestion,” he muttered to himself on his way back to his office. He had resolved to spend the rest of the night working with PR staff in case the information was leaked to the public. He believed that he could speak for nearly every government official in the building when he said that the André Bourgeois incident was currently a rather large headache that threatened huge repercussions.

            Ironically enough, from Hawkmoth’s perspective, the André Bourgeois incident was just what the doctor ordered. Given the ongoing investigation at the Agreste mansion, the villain realized that he would have to temporarily put his akumatization efforts on hiatus. However, having a nearly complete record of the French government’s correspondence with the Wunderstein group, amid a few other choice documents, gave him a very welcome potential avenue of attack. That night Hawkmoth laid down his emergency butterfly habitat peacefully. He had no need to use it in the immediate future. For now, he would plan.

            One last person was notably impacted by the repercussions of the last few days. A humble hour before Chat Noir met up with Rena Rouge, a scientist grinned as his phone presented him with a notification.

Update- Miraculous stones in excess of five have been found. Location added to list of notable reactions.

            Not a minute later, the scientist clicked on a link that he had prepared two days prior. Five minutes after that, he became the proud owner of an airline ticket to Paris.

            “Hey, Iris, Starz, we’re going to Paris!” the man giddily exclaimed. “It looks like the fox has finally led us back to its den,” the man remarked, making a digital copy of the coordinates provided by his miraculous tracker.

            “I’m so excited!” A pink kwami chirped as she materialized overhead. “I’ll be able to learn so many new things researching with you in Paris!” Iris elatedly hummed as she settled onto the man’s dark hair, one of her favorite roosts.

            “Hmm, I suppose you’ve sold me on the idea as well. If Iris could perform a blessing of insight on me, then it might help me… be more decisive perhaps?” the starfish kwami questioned more than stated from within his stone, not feeling particularly inclined to materialize so late at night.

            “It promises to be quite the fun vacation!” the man agreed, his eager grin still growing. “Let’s do this! For the Miraculous!” the man cheered in his solitary Wunderstein office, which was now relatively empty,

            “Yeah! For the Miraculous and all the knowledge our research will bring!” The kwami of insight contentedly resounded.

            “Hmm, even I can confidently tell how important your research is to you. I suppose I’ll join in the cheer… For the Miraculous!” Starz yawned, his enthusiasm wrapped more in his words than in his diction.

            “According to the words on your screen, the ticket is for Monday, tomorrow in other words,” the pink kwami observed. “This will be an excellent opportunity to see modern aviation in action,” Iris remarked enthusiastically.

            “Heh, I guess so,” the man agreed. “Get ready miraculous Guardian, because we’re coming to Paris and we don’t plan to leave without learning everything you know!” the man declared. He and his kwamis were planning to have a very fun week.


	27. Meeting by Moonlight

            Monday night. Centuries ago, a group of vigilantes seeking justice might have met in the catacombs, their surroundings lit only by torchlight that would be extinguished by each traveler seeking to cover their tracks. They would meet to plan and to share in comradery, trading drinks and stories between themselves. In Paris’s modern age, no such group of vigilantes existed. However, there were yet some for whom the spirit of justice burned quite brightly.

            “I’d like to begin this emergency meeting by thanking all of you for your attendance tonight,” a mustached man addressed the room. His silvery eyes were fixed on the crowd before him, an audience at rapt attention. The speech itself was a formality, he’d already sent emails detailing most of the points he wished to cover, but the formality was one of great import.

            “I’d like to especially thank the special task force members in the room for joining us,” the man acknowledged with a tip of his black-rimmed hat. He adjusted the microphone on his blue coat before continuing. “In recent times, the nation of France and Paris especially have been plagued with the unprecedented threat of a supervillain,” the speaker began, moving his steeled gaze through the room. “As of yet, we, the police force of Paris, have been unable to physically impede this superhuman aggressor or apprehend him. That sits about as well with me as I imagine it does with all of you,” the sharply dressed man continued as murmurs of assent rose up from the crowd. “As a result of the recent akumatization of mayor Bourgeois, it has come to my attention that government officials are searching for a means to directly combat Hawkmoth. I think that it's only fitting that I share that information with you, the people who serve and protect our citizens,” the speaker imparted, his hands resting calmly on the podium in front of him. “While this is certainly good news, there is another recent development from which we stand to gain significant ground on the issue of Hawkmoth. Some of you already know what I’m referring to but for those of you who do not, I refer to the recent discovery of a room that almost certainly served as Hawkmoth’s base of operations. I take the liberty of using the past tense here since an investigation team has planted surveillance devices throughout the room,” the speaker informed, causing a few grins of satisfaction to pop out from among the crowd.

            The man looked at his silver timepiece before continuing. “Due to this recent discovery, we have been presented with a unique opportunity to secure the safety of our city and our nation, as well as an actual suspect who may stand trial depending on the actions of relevant persons in the future. This hardly bears saying, but the information that I’m about to tell you all is strictly confidential. Our current suspect is one Gabriel Agreste.” The man paused as he waited for the room of officers to digest the information. Aside from the investigation team who searched the room and the supervising detective, the identity of the suspect was available to only a privileged few, until now.

            “As the Chief of Police, I and a group comprised of both police and government advisors have comprised an action plan, my main reason for conducting this emergency brief. For the time being, Lieutenants Beaulieu, Raincomprix, Polnareff, and Armande have been assigned a special investigative mission to tactically organize teams of four officers to surveil the actions of Mr. Agreste and otherwise investigate akuma-related instances, should any arise. These patrol teams, supervised by Captains Fouille and Bouclier, will go into effect tomorrow,” the Police Chief informed, looking specifically at each of the people he named. “I yield the floor to Captain Fouille. If there are any questions, feel free to send me an email,” the man informed before sitting in the sole empty chair in the front row of the gathered officers. On his honor as a policeman, he would do everything in his power to ensure that Hawkmoth was captured.

            As it happened, the aforementioned villain was out searching the streets of Paris with his partner in crime. His kwami, the kwami of transmission, had seen fit to tell him that he had detected the presence of an unusual kwami earlier in the day. Gabriel had accepted a while back that his kwami wouldn’t willingly sell out any of the kwamis protected by the Guardian, which could only mean this particular kwami didn’t fit into that category. The man's face had grown into a villainous grin upon hearing the news. Apparently, the Wunderstien group had seen fit to come to him. It certainly saved him a lot of trouble.

            So it was that Hawkmoth and Mayura traversed the Parisian cityscape, aided by Nooroo’s directions, until they came upon an unassuming building. Unassuming, that is, unless one happened to notice the individual dressed in a pink outfit reclining on its roof.

            Noticing the individual, Hawkmoth indicated for Mayura to prepare for an ambush before he advanced towards the stranger. If all went well, he would have a new miraculous to do his bidding by the end of the night.

            The villain’s footfalls were light on the roof’s gravelly surface, though not light enough to prevent his target from detecting his presence.

            “Well, well, well! When I saw a miraculous moving this way on the map, I didn’t think it would be you,” the man chuckled without a trace of apprehension in his eyes as he sprung to his feet from his reclining posture. “Hawkmoth, supervillain of Paris, how can I help you?” the man jovially asked, delivering the line like an amused clerk addressing a customer who was unfamiliar with their surroundings.

            The corners of Hawkmoth’s mouth started to smile, this was certainly a game that he could play. “Cutting to the point, I see. I certainly wouldn’t mind an extra set of hands in my project to acquire the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculouses,” the villain invited, resting the point his cane on the ground.

            “I figured you’d say something like that,” the man in pink chuckled before adopting a contemplative pose. “However, if you’re serious, I’d have to ask for something in return. Specifically, I came to Paris on a mission to acquire new knowledge about the miraculous stones. You wouldn’t happen to have anything that fits the bill, would you?” the unfamiliar man probed.

            Hawkmoth allowed himself to smile. “I just so happen to know someone with a book that you might find very useful. I certainly wouldn’t be averse to a trade,” the purple supervillain amicably proposed.

            “I’ll keep that in mind. However, you’ll excuse me if I compare prices before I agree on a particular deal,” Hawkmoth’s conversation partner responded before standing up straight, removing his hand from the wall that enclosed the staircase leading into the building’s interior.

            “Compare prices? Whatever do you mean?” Hawkmoth asked, somewhat perturbed by the man’s choice to decline his offer.

            “Suffice it to say that someone else also has some information that I’m interested in,” the man in pink revealed with a knowing smile. “It would certainly be a bad move to agree to a deal without knowing everything on the table,” he further explained, almost taunting the villain.

            Hawkmoth began to circle about the man, moving between him and the building’s nearest ledge. “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary. I am the authority on all things miraculous in this city,” the supervillain informed, now blocking the other man’s exit.

            The man sighed. “So that’s how it’s going to be. In that case, I have a question for you. Do you know a guy by the name of Winston Corbyn?” the man probed his eyes intently focused on the villain’s face.

            “I can’t say that I do,” the villain naturally lied. “Is he a friend of yours?” Hawkmoth queried.

            The man in pink swiped at the air in front of him with his right index finger before bringing it to his mouth and theatrically tasting it. He frowned. “I’m afraid that statement of yours tastes like a lie!” the mystery man proclaimed before causing a bow to materialize out of thin air. “As a seeker of knowledge, you can imagine how lies make me feel,” the man continued, leveling his bow to point at the villain’s chest.

            The supervillain laughed. “I take it negotiations have gone south?” Hawkmoth queried as he unsheathed the sword within his cane.

            His opponent smirked. “I guess you could say that. However, since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll consider letting you leave if you get out of my way within the next five seconds,” the man offered, keeping his bow trained on the villain.

            Five seconds passed, each combatant keeping their position.

            The man in pink sighed. “I did offer…” he said, letting the words hang in the air.

            Hawkmoth laughed. “That you did. However, I also recall making you an offer earlier. It’s a shame that both offers were declined,” the villain rebuffed, stepping forwards.

            Like a flash of lightning, the man in pink slammed the edge on his bow into the midsection of Hawkmoth’s blade, nearly disarming him. The villain’s riposte was quick, however, as he hurriedly brought his sword down towards the opponent, concatenating the downward thrust with a lunge. The body of the bow arrested the momentum of the sword, both weapons whistling through the air, as the man in pink used the opening that he had just created to draw an arrow.

            “I’m afraid Ladybug’s not here to make the consequences of your actions disappear this time. No hard feelings, but I don’t provide the same service,” the man taunted before freeing his arrow from the tension of the bowstring.

            Hawkmoth brought up his sword to defend himself, only to be confronted with the sound of the arrow scraping against his saber's steel until it was deflected just above his right shoulder. At least, he thought it was deflected until he noticed the rivulets of red running down his purple suit.

            “It appears I’ve only grazed you. Perhaps I’m not the William Tell I thought I was. Shall we try again?” the man baited as he drew another arrow.

            Hawkmoth’s reaction speed belied his sword arm's recent injury, the tip of his blade knocking the arrow loose from his opponent's bow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that if you hope to defeat me,” the villain taunted, grinning as he saw Mayura closing in from behind his newfound adversary.

            “If you insist! Future Vision!” the man called out, drawing another arrow and knocking Hawkmoth’s sword back in one swift motion.

            In the first five seconds, the man in pink continued his advance on the villain, pursuing the man in purple as he retreated. He then fired a shot in the sixth second, managing to graze Hawkmoth’s left leg before the seventh. Hawkmoth grinned through the pain. “It seems our battle ends here!” the villain declared. Just before the ninth second, the man in pink was interrupted by a jarring pain in his back introduced by Mayura’s war fan. In the tenth second, he fell to the ground. At least, that’s what happened in his vision.

            The first five seconds played out the same as before, each participant in the fight taking their prescribed actions. However, instead of firing an arrow at the retreating Hawkmoth, the man in pink spoke as he began to turn around towards Mayura. “Your next line is: It seems our battle ends here!” the archer informed as he fired an arrow at the unsuspecting Mayura.

            Hawkmoth’s battle plan unwove itself from existence in the seventh second. He became aware of his failure the second he finished speaking. “It seems our battle ends here!” the villain triumphantly declared. However, his powerful grin morphed into a look of horror as he processed the words spoken by his newfound adversary.

            In the ninth second, the archer’s arrow found its target in Mayura’s right hand. In the rewritten tenth second, her weapon fell to the floor.

            Leaving the stunned pair no time to recover, the man in pink quickly plucked the peacock miraculous from its bearer’s neck while she was appraising the damage done to her hand. “Alas, it seems our battle has ended,” the archer taunted from a relatively safe distance of nine meters. “In any case, if you want this miraculous stone back, I’d be willing to trade you. Meet me at the Arc de Triomphe on Wednesday at ten PM with that book you mentioned and we’ll call it even,” the man instructed with a successful grin as he made his escape.

            Hawkmoth was torn between chasing the assailant who had so infuriatingly bested him and taking care of his assistant who, without her miraculous, was in very obvious pain. Ultimately, he decided on the latter. If he wanted to deal with the man in pink, he could always do so on Wednesday at ten PM. For now, he would have to settle for the bitter taste left by a temporary defeat.


	28. The Price of a Story

            A candle flickered, its flame wavering in direction. A wax trail began to pulse between the candle’s black and white sides. For the old man, the fire was a portent. Its blaze, melting a line in the candle’s wax, indicated whether the power of the universe lay on the side of good or that of evil. Of course, the alignment of the universe would be a silly thing to conclude from any ordinary candle. However, that candle, in addition to some others in the man’s possession, was crafted with a recipe that was one of the last relics of the Order of the Miraculous, which made its flame an incredibly reliable indicator of the state of the world.

            For months, the Guardian had lit one of his candles each night, and taken efforts to ensure that the side of good had the upper hand. However, something new had happened that night. The fire above the candle swayed in a dance, causing the wax to drip from black to white and back again in a swaying wave that repeated itself without any apparent end.

            “What does it mean?” a green kwami worriedly questioned from his place beside the old man as both continued to observe the flame’s peculiar behavior.

            “The universe is out of balance,” the Guardian concluded sternly. “There are new powers that are not aligned towards good or evil, but something else altogether. If not stopped, I fear such power will only spread the chaos that is already present in this candle,” master Fu grimly warned.

            The air in the room began to freeze as a gust sprouted up from the candle and extinguished its flame. The actual temperature in the room was unchanged, but both observers of the candle could palpably feel the tension created by the fire’s absence.

            “There’s an unknown miraculous user nearby,” the green kwami announced. “When the flame of fate blew out, I assumed the worst, but it’s clear to me that-”

            “This will be a meeting capable of altering the balance between good and evil,” the Guardian concluded the statement with a serious yet relaxed expression. If the wax trail was swaying between black and white, then perhaps it would be possible to end such a meeting peacefully.

            By the time he heard a knock at his door, the Guardian had completed his preparations. The old man, dressed in the green of Wayzz’s armor, opened the door calmly, inviting the visitor in for a cup of tea.

            “I have to admit, this is a far more hospitable reception than I was expecting,” the visitor remarked from across the table, once the two had settled into their places.

            “I often find that being kind to others can make things easier,” the man in green replied as he poured some tea into two porcelain teacups, his words spoken as if he were reciting a Confucian saying.

            The man in pink smiled. “In that case, allow me to repay your kindness with one of my own. Specifically, I’ll be straightforward with you. I want to know everything you know about the miraculous stones,” the visitor requested, maintaining an amicable expression.

            The Guardian frowned as he set his kettle down. “I’m afraid that you’re asking for something that I cannot freely give. Generations of people have worked to cultivate knowledge about the miraculouses; such a thing cannot be given lightly,” the Guardian respectfully declined.

            The visitor sighed. “I’m sorry to hear that. And here I thought that presenting you with the Peacock miraculous might change your mind,” the man in pink lamented, giving his host time to digest the weight of his statement.

            “You have the peacock miraculous?!” the Guardian questioned with surprise. The implication that the man would be willing to trade it for information… was a hard offer to pass up.

            The visitor fished the blue brooch out of his pocket. “I was hoping to keep it as a souvenir, but a certain individual told me that being kind to others can make things easier,” the man explained with a toying smile as he replaced the item in his pocket.

            The Guardian sighed, shaking his head. “Allow me to tell you a story from the past. Long ago, there was a temple devoted to developing and guarding the miraculous stones. Its keepers were called the Order of the Miraculous. For centuries, the Order served as a force that sought to protect humanity. Thanks to them, countless disasters were averted,” the Guardian began before taking his first sip of tea. “However, one day a visitor came to the temple, which did not go over well with the many members of the order who had tried to keep its location a secret. Naturally, one of the temple’s keepers showed him out. Unfortunately, the visitor implanted a dangerous idea in that keeper’s mind, specifically that the world would be better off if the individual keepers were able to wield the miraculous stones at their leisure rather than wait for the conglomerate of keepers to approve their use, as was the custom,” the Guardian recounted, once again lifting his cup to his tired lips.

            “Is wielding the stones at one’s leisure any different from what the heroes of Paris are doing?” the man in pink questioned. “Forgive me, but I find it rather ironic that this visitor is being portrayed as a villain for having such an idea,” the strange man criticized.

            The Guardian shook his head. “That is the point, exactly. A blatantly evil idea would not have likely taken root in the keeper’s mind. However, a flawed idea that was pleasant-sounding managed to do so easily,” Master Fu explained before continuing. “The keeper of the miraculouses who adopted that idea ended up acting on it the same day. That decision was perhaps the most crucial cause of the tragedy that I am about to recount for you. When the keeper took one of the miraculouses and activated its powers, he was approached by some of the other members of the Order and questioned by them. However, they were not receptive to the idea of one taking a miraculous for themselves as much as that keeper was. The keeper, himself, refused to back down; he was convinced that he would be a great force for good if he was able to freely use that miraculous. In a parallel show of resolve, some of the other members felt compelled to defend their traditions, confident that the deep ways of the past could lead to a brighter future better than the actions of one individual. As you might have predicted, violence broke out,” the Guardian paused his speech, his hands moving with a slight tremor as he once again reached for his teacup.

            “Both sides were convinced that they were taking the right actions to better the world. However, because of the actions of one man, many perished that day. The keeper had claimed for himself the same miraculous that Chat Noir uses, the miraculous of destruction. At first, he tried to defend himself from the other members of the Order in order to make an escape. However, he was outnumbered. Realizing that he could not win a defensive battle, the keeper activated Chat Noir’s cataclysm,” the Guardian let out a deep exhale before continuing as his guest listened intently. “Once the killing started, it could not be stopped. The keeper used forbidden arts to regenerate his Cataclysms and obliterated many of the Guardians who stood in his path, including the keeper who was training me at the time,” master Fu looked into the eyes for his conversation partner as he recounted the next part of his tragic story.

            “I will never forget the looks of anguish on the faces of the people I once called family as they were struck down by the power of unbridled destruction. I cannot erase the feelings of dread and fear I felt when my master thrust the same miraculous stone that I am using today into my hands while his body dissolved into a mass of black nothingness,” the Guardian stopped, looking down, shamefully.

            “It is impossible for me to forget the tragedy that occurred when I, myself, deflected the rogue keeper’s Cataclysm into a support beam, ending the terrible conflict once and for all. It would be foolish to say that a person knowing the secrets of the miraculous caused the tragedy of that day. However, I know firsthand of the horrors that can be unleashed by a knowledgeable man with flawed ideas. If you are who I think you are, then you should know that this miraculous has the power of protection,” the Guardian paused, asking an unspoken question to his audience of one.

            The man in pink gave a nod.

            The Guardian nodded in acknowledgement and continued. “From the safety afforded to me by this miraculous, I looked on as the temple that had been my home fell down around me, support beams and flooring piercing through the floor and crushing the keepers that I could not shield with my own body. Then came the fire. Using secret techniques, I managed to extend the longevity of my barrier, seeking to protect others. That move saved my life when one rogue beam shattered the confines of an incinerator, setting the temple ablaze. I will not elaborate further on my experience looking for survivors in fiery hallways filled with deep black smoke. Nor will I give you the details of my somber trek through the remains of the temple when I returned to collect the miraculous stones belonging to the Order. I have simply told you this story so that you might understand why I cannot abide a request to learn everything I know about the miraculous. The cost to the world is far too high,” the Guardian explained setting down his white teacup in a final gesture.

            The man in pink looked down and examined his tea. He took a sip. “You didn’t tell me a single lie during that story, frankly I’m honored. That being said, I’m not about to be dissuaded from my goal so easily,” the man in pink remarked before taking another sip. “By the way, I’m curious. Who do you think I am?” the visitor asked, looking at the Guardian with a knowing smile.

            The man met his gaze with a smile of his own. “I could ask you how you knew to find me here,” the man in green responded with a query of his own.

            The man in pink laughed. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he challenged, setting down his cup.

            “I think you are the Inquisitor, an individual working for the Wunderstein group,” the Guardian proposed, airing his suspicions.

            The visitor smiled. “If I hadn’t already thought that you were affiliated with a certain Kagami, then that statement would have confirmed it. I did only give that name to one person, after all,” the man in pink jovially remarked. “In any case, I found you using a miraculous tracking device. I figured a reading of 10+ indicated a miraculous hub of some sort,” the visitor revealed before standing up. “I’ll keep in touch,” the Inquisitor commented as he walked to the door. “It’s readily apparent that I’m not going to acquire what I’m after tonight,” the visitor explained as he made his exit.

            “So it would seem,” the Guardian responded, watching the door of his residence close for the final time that night. Master Fu could not help but wonder how far the Inquisitor would go to see his thirst for knowledge slaked. Hopefully, his passion for knowledge would not burn the city to the ground.


End file.
